


Catalyst

by nocturnath



Series: Budding, Blossoming, Blooming [1]
Category: A3! (Video Game)
Genre: Awkward Flirting, Co-workers, College, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dancing, Dating, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Flirting, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Gentle Kissing, Jealousy, Kissing, Making Out, Multi, Mutual Pining, Not Beta Read, Pampering, Pining, Sleepy Cuddles
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-01
Updated: 2020-11-01
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:33:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 26
Words: 57,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23068528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nocturnath/pseuds/nocturnath
Summary: if I write about him, will he come home in 145 gems or less?✿ a one-shot collection of all the A3! boys in different scenarios because you should stan everyone✿ gender neutral/female reader✿ will be cross-posted on my tumblr, currywaifu⤷ latest chapter: purple lilac (shine a little love) [usui masumi/reader]⤷ fic directory in chapter 1
Relationships: Arisugawa Homare/Reader, Chigasaki Itaru/Reader, Furuichi Sakyou/Reader, Fushimi Omi/Reader, Hyoudou Juuza/Reader, Minagi Tsuzuru/Reader, Miyoshi Kazunari/Reader, Rurikawa Yuki/Reader, Settsu Banri/Reader, Sumeragi Tenma/Reader, Tsukioka Tsumugi/Reader, Yukishiro Azuma/Reader
Series: Budding, Blossoming, Blooming [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1828804
Comments: 153
Kudos: 579





	1. fic directory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> directory of all fics so far, summaries, and tags. this chapter is just for easy reader navigation :3

* * *

𝓢𝓹𝓻𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓣𝓻𝓸𝓾𝓹𝓮

𝐒𝐀𝐊𝐔𝐌𝐀 𝐒𝐀𝐊𝐔𝐘𝐀

  * _no fics so far_



𝐔𝐒𝐔𝐈 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐈

  * **purple lilac (shine a little love)** | chapter 26
    * in which masumi basically works up to a confession 
      * SFW
      * gender neutral
      * _not_ director reader
      * 1.3k+ words



𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐆𝐈 𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐙𝐔𝐑𝐔

  * **should we rest for a little longer?** | chapter 3
    * in which tsuzuru is a visibly tired college student. help him 
      * SFW
      * gender neutral
      * college student reader
      * 2.7k+ words


  * **playing pretend** | chapter 7
    * in which reader loves discounts, tsuzuru gets dragged into everything, and a wedding happens 
      * SFW
      * gender neutral
      * college student reader
      * 3.5k+ words, 1 image


  * **three words** | chapter 10
    * in which tsuzuru hasn't said those three words yet 
      * SFW
      * gender neutral
      * college student reader
      * 1.4k+ words


  * **escape room** | chapter 22
    * in which tsuzuru and his s/o go out on an escape room date... plus handcuffs and other chaos  

      * SFW
      * gender neutral
      * _not_ director reader
      * 3.4k+ words, 3 images


  * **faint** | chapter 25
    * in which tsuzuru passes out, and reader takes care of him 
      * SFW
      * gender neutral
      * _not_ director reader
      * 900+ words



𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐒𝐀𝐊𝐈 𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐔

  * **hidden side** | chapter 11
    * in which itaru and reader are co-workers with a mutual understanding 
      * SFW
      * gender neutral
      * _not_ director reader
      * 3.4k+ words


  * **save file** | chapter 17
    * in which reader and itaru fake date, and have matching rings  

      * SFW
      * gender neutral
      * _not_ director reader
      * 2.7k+ words



𝐂𝐈𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐍

  * _no fics so far_



𝐔𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐈 𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐊𝐀𝐆𝐄

  * _no fics so far_



* * *

𝓢𝓾𝓶𝓶𝓮𝓻 𝓣𝓻𝓸𝓾𝓹𝓮

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐈 𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐌𝐀

  * **summer date** | chapter 13
    * in which reader and tenma have a date in the summer 
      * SFW
      * gender neutral
      * _not_ director reader
      * 1.9k+ words


  * **rival** | chapter 23
    * in which tenma falls in love with his "rival" and everyone realises it before he does 
      * SFW
      * gender neutral
      * _not_ director reader
      * 2.9k+ words, 3 images



𝐑𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐊𝐀𝐖𝐀 𝐘𝐔𝐊𝐈

  * **that's pretty knit** | chapter 21
    * in which reader decides to knit a scarf for yuki  

      * SFW
      * gender neutral
      * _not_ director reader
      * 1.9k+ words



𝐒𝐀𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐀𝐊𝐀 𝐌𝐔𝐊𝐔

  * _no fics so far_



𝐈𝐊𝐀𝐑𝐔𝐆𝐀 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐈

  * _no fics so far_



𝐌𝐈𝐘𝐎𝐒𝐇𝐈 𝐊𝐀𝐙𝐔𝐍𝐀𝐑𝐈

  * **muse** | chapter 9
    * in which kazunari wants to paint his s/o reader  

      * SFW
      * gender neutral
      * _not_ director reader
      * 3.1k+ words, 1 image


  * **mutuals** | chapter 15
    * in which reader and kazunari are insta mutuals  

      * SFW
      * gender neutral
      * _not_ director reader
      * 1.9k+ words, 4 images



𝐇𝐘𝐎𝐃𝐎 𝐊𝐔𝐌𝐎𝐍

  * _no fics so far_



* * *

𝓐𝓾𝓽𝓾𝓶𝓷 𝓣𝓻𝓸𝓾𝓹𝓮

𝐒𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐒𝐔 𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐑𝐈

  * **the sims** | chapter 8
    * in which banri and reader play the sims and use it as an excuse to flirt with each other  

      * SFW
      * gender neutral
      * _not_ director reader
      * 2.0k+ words


  * **pink hyacinth** | chapter 20
    * in which banri is a flower shop part-timer and has friendly competition between him and the reader 
      * SFW
      * gender neutral
      * _not_ director reader
      * 2.5k+ words



𝐇𝐘𝐎𝐃𝐎 𝐉𝐔𝐙𝐀

  * **you can have half** | chapter 2
    * in which reader has a crush, and both of them happen to like sweets very much  

      * SFW
      * gender neutral
      * college student reader
      * 3.0k+ words, 2 images


  * **scouting dilemma** | chapter 12
    * in which reader keeps trying to scout, but their best boy just won’t come home! juza doesn’t get it exactly, but he’s there to comfort you~  

      * SFW
      * gender neutral
      * college student reader
      * 1.7k+ words


  * **pansy** | chapter 16
    * in which juza’s having some trouble building his new character, and reader helps him figure it out over the course of a week  

      * SFW
      * gender neutral
      * _not_ director reader
      * 3.3k+ words



𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐎 𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐈

  * _no fics so far_



𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐌𝐈 𝐎𝐌𝐈

  * **a little rain** | chapter 4
    * in which omi and reader go on a date, pretty much  

      * SFW
      * female reader (mentioned only in one not-so-important scene, if it bothers you)
      * _not_ director reader
      * 1.2k+ words



𝐅𝐔𝐑𝐔𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐈 𝐒𝐀𝐊𝐘𝐎

  * **unpleasant feelings** | chapter 19
    * in which sakyo acknowledges and overcomes his jealousy  

      * SFW
      * gender neutral
      * 1.2k+ words



𝐈𝐙𝐔𝐌𝐈𝐃𝐀 𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐌𝐈

  * _no fics so far_



* * *

𝓦𝓲𝓷𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝓣𝓻𝓸𝓾𝓹𝓮

𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐈𝐎𝐊𝐀 𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐔𝐆𝐈

  * **a waltz to remember** | chapter 6
    * in which tsumugi has two left feet, and the reader is trying their best to help him  

      * SFW
      * gender neutral
      * _not_ director reader
      * 3.1k+ words


  * **maid outfit** | chapter 24
    * in which reader is participating in a cafe for their uni's cultural festival, and tsumugi is in for a surprise  

      * SFW
      * gender neutral
      * college student reader
      * 1.3k+ words



𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐀𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔

  * _no fics so far_



𝐌𝐈𝐊𝐀𝐆𝐄 𝐇𝐈𝐒𝐎𝐊𝐀

  * _no fics so far_



𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐀𝐖𝐀 𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐄

  * **when i fall in love** | chapter 18
    * in which homare sings to reader  

      * SFW
      * gender neutral
      * _not_ director reader
      * 1.0k+ words



𝐘𝐔𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐎 𝐀𝐙𝐔𝐌𝐀

  * **pampering you** | chapter 5
    * in which the reader gets pampered by azuma  

      * SFW
      * gender neutral
      * director reader
      * 1.8k+ words


  * **overseas trip** | chapter 14
    * in which reader and azuma have fun in their hotel room :O  

      * NSFW (the only one you'll see for a while, probably)
      * gender-neutral reader, but w/ cis female body parts
      * _not_ director reader
      * 2.4k+ words



𝐆𝐔𝐘

  * _no fics so far_




	2. juza | you can have half

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which reader has a crush, and both of them happen to like sweets very much  
> ⤷ gender neutral reader  
> ⤷ college student reader  
> ⤷ year 2 ages (juza is 18)  
> ⤷ SFW

He was in three of your classes. _Three_ , and not once have you gotten the chance to talk to him! Granted, you never took the initiative either but after a few months you’d think some kind of pair or group activity would pop-up to help you out.

The two of you were even in the class with the highly-acclaimed (by the student body) matchmaker professor, and either you were too subtle with your pining or weren’t interesting enough because not once has she tried to pair you up with him, or anyone for that matter.

Seriously, what does one have to do to get close to Hyodo Juza?

There wasn’t a particular moment you could pinpoint when you fell for Juza, but rather it was an accumulation of things that got you more and more attracted to him.

His cool and tough exterior first caught your attention, from the way he dressed to his purple hair. It didn’t help at all that he was extremely attractive to you.

Then you started noticing more things about him, like how polite he was to the professors, or the tiny smile he wore when he ate the anmitsu from the school canteen, or when that one upperclassman handed him some mochi, or when the photography-club senior gave him a box of pocky. 

Juza being a sweets lover? Isn’t this what they call ‘gap moe’? Ahhh, your poor heart.

“That’s it!” You exclaimed to yourself excitedly, sitting up from your bed so quickly your head hurt slightly.

“I’ll give him some sweets as a conversation starter!”

* * *

Easier said than done.

“Isn’t it awkward to just give sweets out of nowhere to a guy?” You whined, hiding your face with your arms and laying your head down on the table. Your friends sighed for the nth time within the past hour, patting your head comfortingly as the two of them looked at you incredulously. 

“It’s normal to confess feelings through sweets though?” 

You jolted your head back up to look at the girl. “And who said I was gonna confess?”

The disbelief on their faces increased tenfold. “You’re not?” 

Grimacing at the volume of their voices, you looked around to see if anyone was paying attention. By the history books section you locked eyes with the librarian who paused putting back returned books to glare at your table, causing you to give an awkward smile in return. 

Right, library. Inside voices.

“I wanna become friends with him first, but I’m too much of a wimp to even approach him huhu…” When the two girls don’t respond, you turn to the direction where they were staring straight ahead. A slight heat spread throughout your chest and into the roots of your hair. 

“Omg, yankee Barney is here.” Choking on saliva, the speed at which you turned away probably gave you whiplash. 

“I was gonna go with Dibo the Delinquent Dragon, but I like yours more.”

The two crackheads were stifling their laughter and looked like they were moments away from bursting out and getting themselves kicked out of the library. “Shut up! Let me wallow in my misery in silence.”

“Oh? Since when did Elmo get so dramatic?” Feeling your face heat-up and redden further, you stood up to leave. 

“I’m gonna get strawberry milk from the vending machine, go talk shit without me.” You groaned, only staying long enough to hear them laugh as loud as they could without getting caught. 

* * *

There was only one left, and you were the only one in line. How lucky was that? You waited for the machine to do its thing and drop the milk carton through the chute. 

Except it wasn’t doing its thing. Odd. Should you stick your arm in the slot? Shake the machine? Kick or punch the glass? Ask someone for help? All of the above, in that order?

Fate had decided for you. 

“You, do you need help?”

Holy holy _holy_ -

Hyodo Juza was behind _you_! And he was talking to _you_! 

Okay brain, here’s the game plan. Turn around, casually ask him for help, thank him, introduce yourself then continue the conversation from there!

Except you decided to make like the vending machine and malfunction.

“I- uh- yes? Please?”

Fuck, you probably sounded dumb. What kind of first impression is this? That response would probably get you intimacy points close to none. You went outside to cool down but weren’t the heat levels rising again? 

He stared at you for a second, before quickly looking away and kicking the machine. Ahh, wasn’t that really cool? He crouched down, sticking his hand through the slot before handing you the carton.

“Strawberry milk…” 

It looked like he was glaring for a second, but wasn’t he staring because he actually liked the flavour? He was holding out the drink to you, but you hastily pushed his palm back towards him. 

“Thanks! You can keep it since you helped me with, you know. The machine! Okay, see you in class Ju-san!” You spoke quickly, before swiftly fleeing the premises.

Back in the library, you let your head fall down on the wooden surface. “You look like crap, what happened?” Letting out a pitiful whimper, you look up at them with a pout ready on your lips.

“He probably thinks I’m weird now…” The two girls exchanged a look with each other.

“Not that you aren’t, but what you do boi?”

* * *

“Ju- _san_ …” He murmured quietly, palming the pink and white milk box in his hand. He sat in the dorm’s living room, wondering what he should do.

Juza’s seen you before in a couple of his classes. You always sat somewhere in the middle beside your friends, taking down notes and asking questions when needed. Other than the fact that you were a hard worker, he didn’t really know anything else about you.

Until the fateful encounter today.

At first, he thought you were scared of him from the way you froze up like a mannequin. Then you turned to him, not looking afraid but definitely a little faint and red-faced. Were you sick? 

That didn’t explain how you just rushed off without your drink and that odd nickname. 

Ju-san.

_ Ju-san. _

“Juza? Are you okay?” Flinching a bit, his eyes met with Omi’s concerned amber coloured ones. 

“Omi-san, I’m fine…” He replied, doing little to convince Omi who proceeded to sit down next to him.

The strawberry milk was still sitting in the purple-haired boy’s hand. 

“Are you not gonna drink that?” The brunet didn’t say it aloud, but both of them knew what he meant, ‘It’s not like you to just save it for later, so something’s up.’ 

“Someone gave it to me.” If the 4th year student was surprised, he sure didn’t show it. Instead, he gave a smile as if he knew this would happen eventually. 

“And then? Why don’t you want to drink it then?” It probably wasn’t cold anymore if he had it since class hours.

“It’s not that… it feels…” Juza trailed off, looking for a word that would describe their chance meeting.

“Weird?” Omi supplied, but he shook his head. No, that wasn’t it.

“Sudden? Confusing?” 

“Both of those, I think. Also, Ju-san…” 

The brunet’s ears perked up at the nickname, almost believing he misheard it. Was this Ju-chan 2: Electric Boogaloo? Ah, Juza attracts cute people, doesn’t he? Can it be that cute people see through that toughness and see his softer side? It’s certainly true with Juza’s brother and cousin.

“So they called you that, huh. Ju-san because Ju-sa sounds like Juza?

Said person ignored him, unaware of the pink on his cheeks. Being a good  ~~mother~~ senpai, Omi decided to help him out. Since Juza’s been delaying drinking the milk, he probably thought he didn’t deserve a free drink out of no where. That was an issue with a quick and easy fix.

“I’ll help you give them something in return on Monday.” 

That was enough for Juza, who finally ripped the little plastic packet and poked the straw through the carton hole. 

For a lukewarm drink, it tasted particularly good today.

* * *

You spent an hour last weekend praying to a couple of deities that you could start over your first meeting with Juza. Not only that, but didn’t you end up calling him something weird?

You were walking to class when your friend leaned in closer, voice quiet so only you could hear. “Alert, yankee Barney is approaching. I repeat,”

“Don’t repeat.” You mumbled, not having the nerve to respond further, watching as he slowly neared you. 

“Hyodo-san? Did you need something?” His mouth twitched at that, before handing you a purple tupperware.

“For last Friday. You can give the container back tomorrow.” You stared at the purple-haired man in shock, before accepting the gift.

“Thank you, Hyodo-san. I’ll be sure to enjoy it!” He lingered for a moment, waiting to see if you’d say something else, before nodding and walking past you and your friend.

Did that just happen?

You didn’t even realise your friend had stepped away from you until she came back running and shaking you with a magnitude strong enough to make a tree collapse.

“I thought you said he was gonna think you’re weird and shit! The fuck is this then?”

“Wait hoe I’m still shookt, let me check.”

Lifting the lid, the contents inside made your mouth water, and you wouldn’t be eating lunch for another 3 hours! Cookies! The torture of having to wait to consume them. Well, one couldn’t hurt?

Delicious! And the crisp, the size, the texture- all of them were to your liking. 

“Hoh— isfh— _so_ _goo_ —“ 

“Oh look, there’s a note. While you’re greedily eating your heart out, let me read it.” Your friend pointed out, before unsticking it from the plastic lid. 

“Juza felt bad for the free strawberry milk, so I helped him prepare something to show his thanks. I hope you enjoy. P.S. Ju-san? That’s cute.”

You almost choked, your friend wildly patting you on the back. “What’s this? A note from his mom or something?” 

“Ju-ju-san…” You muttered in embarrassment. So he did pay attention to that! Not only that, but he even told someone about it? Well, that wasn’t your biggest worry right now.

“Isn’t this too much just for one strawberry milk? I have to find a way to repay him back!” Your friend narrowed her eyes at you, before shaking her head.

“Why do I feel like this is gonna be the start of a strange back-and-forth between the two of you?”

* * *

The next day, you handed him back the purple tupperware. 

“Open it, it’s my favourite from the bakery two streets down.” You told him, doing your best to mask your shyness before walking away.

As soon as you left, Juza opened it to find a slice of red-velvet cheesecake and a disposable fork inside. He’ll eat it for dessert later. As he was about to close the lid, he noticed the cute sticky note designed like a strawberry. 

_Thank you for the cookies, they were really good! I passed by a bakery last night and thought you’d enjoy this!_

You signed it off with your name, and he realised that he never knew it until then.

He said it quietly, testing out how it sounded.

He sighed, staring at the library door which you exited from.

The school canteen had some delicious milk bread, but don’t they sell strawberry shortcake on Wednesdays?

* * *

Wednesday, you delightfully ate a slice of strawberry shortcake which came with a plain white sticky note with nice calligraphy from Juza.

On Thursday, Tsuzuru found Juza eating dorayaki while reading something on a pastel blue paper.

Friday came, and the usual purple tupperware had two Castella cake slices and a lined paper, clearly ripped from his notebook, folded and taped to the lid.

Juza wondered if it would stop by next week and be handed an empty tupperware, but a surge of courage must have overcome you because Monday came with brownies and a note.

_I don’t want you to keep ripping pages from your notebook. Do you have IG? Discord? If you’re up for it, I can message you there instead. Otherwise, my number is…_

He placed the paper with your socials somewhere he wouldn’t lose it.

* * *

Monday night arrived when you got a text from an unknown number.

_This is Juza_. 

What a simple message, but somehow your heart fluttered. Your phone dinged again when you got a follow notification on IG. Scrambling to follow him back and check out his posts, you didn’t know whether to laugh or be amazed when you saw that the posts there were purely promotional for MANKAI plays, some of which he wasn’t even in.

You took a screenshot of the image of him with the vest and purple tie and asked about the play.

It may not have been in person, but that marked the longest conversation you’ve had with Juza so far. Somehow the two of you went from talking about acting, to food, to hobbies and complaining about teachers and before either of you knew it, it was midnight. 

A couple days pass by and its Thursday night when people notice a change in Juza. Particularly, his phone habits.

“He’s not as bad as Itaru, Banri, and Kazunari but…” Tsuzuru trails off, looking at Omi who only seemed amused. 

“He’s been spending a lot of time talking to someone is all.” The two of them turned their heads back to the first year as he let out a small laugh.

* * *

Three weeks in the food exchange and the two of you began having actual conversations in real life. It started when he handed you the purple tupperware, asking how you were and how your weekend was.

It somehow resulted in the two sitting together during classes, and having lunch together when Omi and Tsuzuru were busy.

You began to wonder who would break the streak.

* * *

You were running late. Maybe it was a bad idea to rush an essay worth a good chunk of your grade in the span of 8 hours, but somehow you managed to complete it at 3 am.

Thank god for online submissions. You wouldn’t be able to stand a noisy printer at this hour. 

After plugging in your laptop and phone to make sure it would be fully charged before classes start later, you flop onto your bed to take a well-deserved rest. 

When you woke up, it was 11 am. 

Shit, you just missed a 3-hour lecture. Shit raised to the power of two- Juza was in that class. Would he be worried that you weren’t there? 

Looks like you’ll be the first to turn in an empty tupperware.

Still, you have a plan B prepared.

* * *

Juza was worried. When you messaged last night you hadn’t mentioned being sick at all. Had something happened? Sure, he didn’t get to message you that much over the weekend because of increasing practice hours but you’d definitely say something.

Omi and Tsuzuru eyed Juza as discretely as they could. No purple tupperware, no wonder he was upset. It went unsaid, but it clearly stopped being about the surprise desserts every other day and more about the person giving them.

“Ju-san!” An unfamiliar voice reached the former two’s ears, but the latter was clearly well acquainted with it based on his reaction. All three men turned around to see you, smiling and holding out Juza’s favourite food. 

It was anmitsu with cream, specifically the one from the campus canteen. 

“They wouldn’t let me put it in the tupperware, but will you accept it anyway?”

Did he look like he cared where the anmitsu was placed? Sure, it made him happy that despite skipping a class she still remembered to get him something, even more, his favourite dish, but…

“You didn’t show up to class a while ago.” Juza was frowning. You knew he usually gave off an angry disposition, but this was different. 

“Sorry, I was up ’til 3 am and forgot to turn on any alarms, haha.” He sighed. 

“So the goodnight text then was-“

“A lie so you wouldn’t scold me for it, which obviously didn’t work in my favour.” 

Having previously failed to notice the two upperclassmen, you turned to greet them, introducing yourself as Juza’s friend. “Sorry to disturb your lunch.” 

Omi smiled. He introduced himself, as did Tsuzuru. So _this_ was his troupe mate’s _special_ _friend_. “Not at all. Have you eaten? You’re welcome to join us.”

Too tired to protest, you thanked him and sat down beside the purple-haired boy. “I just rushed here without eating, actually. Oh, I should probably get my lunch-“ You proceed to stand back up, but a firm hold of your arm from Juza stops you.

“You can have half.” He says, sliding a lunch set with a serving size you didn’t even know the university provided.

“What?”

“You slept through breakfast time, too. We can share.” He insisted, clearly not accepting no for an answer.

You take the unused chopsticks and begin to prod at the side dishes. “Fine, but now I owe you something. Should I get you banana milk from the vending machine?”

Juza looked away for a second, eyes hesitant as he glared at the anmitsu instead of you. When he looked back, he seemed to be filled with resolve.

“Then watch me… Autumn Troupe’s next upcoming play, I mean.”

For a moment you felt heat beginning to encompass yo ur body, but quickly tried to shake it off. Of course Juza meant his acting.

“Obviously I’m watching it. Opening night _and_ closing night, if I can help it.” You insisted. As if you would miss the chance to see him on stage. Sure, your massive crush on him wasn’t gonna go away any time soon, but to be able to see him do something he was extremely passionate about? 

“Quick, help me finish lunch already so you can enjoy your anmitsu, Ju-san.”

* * *

The two of you somehow forgot the presence of Omi and Tsuzuru, both of whom were listening to your conversation intently.

“ _Then watch me?_ Seriously, lines like that can be interpreted…” 

“I think we’ve become the third and fourth wheel, Tsuzuru.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was supposed to be 500 words only, but somehow ended up a solid 3k+ with pictures, like (???)


	3. tsuzuru | should we rest for a little longer?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which tsuzuru is a visibly tired college student, help him  
> ⤷ gender neutral reader  
> ⤷ college student reader  
> ⤷ year 2 ages (juza is 18)  
> ⤷ SFW

He was asleep again. 

“And you’re being a creep again,” Your friend nudges you, and you nudge him back with a vengeance. You peel your eyes away from the sleeping brunet to frown at the boy beside you. 

“I’m not being a creep. I’m just… concerned, I guess.” As soon as the words leave your lips you find yourself cringing a bit. It sounded off, almost like you pitied him. If anything, the right way to phrase it probably would have been-

“I kid, I kid,” your friend raises both of his hands, almost defensive, “it’s because you’re a fan of his, right?”

Your lips purse at the suggestion, neither offended nor angry but not very pleased either. 

“I suppose,” you say, eyeing the professor that entered the room.

Fan. That sounded wrong too, despite being the truth. You _have_ watched all of Mankai Company’s plays, ever since your little sister dragged you to one since the boy she liked was playing one of the leads.

“Ahh, so cute!” Your sister was shaking you for what might have been the nth time that night, but you weren’t so focused on Romeo as you were Mercutio. 

When you saw a familiar face standing on stage beside the pink-haired boy, you were rather surprised. You couldn’t pretend you knew him, but you did see him here and there on campus. You might have even shared a class together and you just never noticed.

You didn’t peg him for an actor.

Curiouser and curiouser.

You checked the website where you booked your tickets again.

Minagi Tsuzuru, _Scriptwriter_

Interesting.

Somehow, even though he wasn’t in the next play, you found yourself watching more and more. You’d swear up and down that as a theatre fan, you wanted to support deserving local productions; while not exactly false, it was hard to deny your admiration for Tsuzuru’s scriptwriting. 

An almost inaudible yawn breaks your reverie and your eyes settle on the familiar green of his jacket. Did the professor just not care? Well, perhaps it was for the better. He probably needed a nap, more than a nap if you were honest.

“Lend me a highlighter real quick,” your friend whispers.

When you pass him the marker, its bright turquoise hue brings you back to your original thoughts.

Were you really just worried because you were a fan of his?

* * *

The next time you see Tsuzuru is at a cafe that had ‘the best hot chocolate ever!’, or so your little sister proclaimed.

“Eh? You’re Mercutio, right?” 

Specifically, at a cafe where Tsuzuru was currently working at.

Do you let your sister do the talking? You don’t wanna disturb him at work or anything. Besides, it’s not as if you’ve ever talked to him, so other than telling him your order there really wasn’t much else to say.

“… _really_ likes your scripts!”

“Ah, really? Please keep supporting us, I’ll make sure to keep improving!”

The corners of Tsuzuru’s eyes were crinkling as the corners of his mouth slid upwards. 

Eh? Why was this boy suddenly giving you an angelic smile? What happened when you spaced out? Wait, didn’t your little brat of a sister mention something about scripts?

“Ah, yes, I’ll keep watching your plays!” You smiled quickly, lightly kicking the younger girl’s feet from beneath the table. Did you say anything to her about your admiration for Tsuzuru or something, or did she suddenly get observant?

She was lucky you weren’t so petty or you would have outed her crush on Sakuya to his troupe mate then and there.

“Oh, by the way,” you begin to lower your volume to be sure, “is the hot chocolate _really_ that good?”

A small chuckle barely escaped his lips before he shrugged, positioning his clipboard to take down your orders. “You have to try it to find out.”

“Then two hot chocolates, and a strawberry creme crepe for me.” 

“Chocolate covered banana pancakes, please!”

As he took down your orders, you caught a glimpse of the dark circles under his eyes. He seemed to be fine when he was talking to the two of you, but a part-time job along with university and theatre probably took a lot out of his energy. 

“Eh, isn’t this-“

“Don’t say anything.”

So when you ended up with a chocolate-drizzled banana creme crepe and your sister got strawberry topped chocolate pancakes, you let it slide. The hot chocolate was actually pretty good.

* * *

You were only supposed to borrow a reference book for one of your classes, take down some notes, and then scramble home.

So what were you doing?

You wanted to sit somewhere further down the library where it was quieter when you stumbled upon Minagi Tsuzuru, fast asleep with several papers scattered haphazardly on the desk.

The two of you weren’t close or anything, but you wanted to encourage him somehow. Sometimes sleepless nights were really necessary, you’d be a hypocrite to vouch against them, but you wanted to tell him to persevere somehow.

You set your bag down on an empty chair, bringing out a green sticky note pad and a ballpoint pen.

* * *

When Tsuzuru wakes up it’s from Juza lightly, well as lightly as Juza could, nudging him awake. He waits for his eyes to adjust to his surroundings, wondering how long he’s been asleep. The first thing he spots is Juza’s purple tupperware, wildly contrasting the off-whites and blacks and browns his things usually were.

The second thing he notices is a green sticky note stuck on one of his notebooks.

> ** _Even the darkest night will end and the sun will rise!_ **

Les Miserables, a line from the finale song if he remembered right.

No name or hint from who could have given it.

He found himself humming the song on the way home.

* * *

“This presentation will be a paired work activity… and as usual, I’ll be pairing you up.” Several people groaned audibly, while two girls whispered excitedly behind you.

“I wonder if she’ll couple me up with someone?”

“Ahh, I hope I get coupled up with…” 

Seriously, coupled up? Since when were you all Love Island contestants? 

You knew this professor was highly acclaimed to be some kind of “ _yosei_ of love” or matchmaker or whatever, but weren’t they expecting too much out of her? 

“This is a class, not a mixer,” your friend began to say, “is probably what you’re thinking right now. Am I wrong?” He looked awfully smug and you couldn’t resist rolling your eyes. 

“More along the lines of ‘this isn’t a reality tv show’, but that works too.”

“Prude.”

“Should you really be insulting me? Prof is probably gonna pair us up again and I’d be stuck with you for a whole week.”

“What’s wrong with that? We became friends _precisely_ because she thought we’d look good together. Of course, it didn’t work out, _unless_?” He started wiggling his eyebrows and you smacked his arm.

“Dumbass. Well, she’s probably hoping we’re some kind of slow-burn pair and keep us partners,” you predicted. Somehow his smugness increased tenfold, looking as sly as a fox.

When the professor calls your name you perk up, head-turning to her. Even seated three rows away from her you could see her eyes sparkling with mirth.

“Please pair up with Minagi Tsuzuru.”

Your eyes immediately sought for the familiar figure in front of you, until you felt a soft tap on your shoulder from behind you.

He greeted you by your surname, a small smile on settled on his face. “Looks like we’re partners. I didn’t know we had a class together.”

“Ah, yeah, it’s nice seeing you again.” You reply, discretely reaching over to your ears as if to hide them. 

“Right!” The two of you looked over to your friend as he clapped his hands together, “Looks like I just got called! Take care of my babe, Tsuzuru!” You were so, so close to slamming your face on the wooden desk, instead deciding to shoo him away with the motion of your hand. 

Turning back to Tsuzuru, you give him an awkward laugh. “Don’t mind him, Minagi-san. He acts dumb, but at least he’s consistent.”

He stands up, shuffling his things and for a moment you forget that he’s actually pretty tall. Transferring to the seat beside you, he shakes his head. “If you think that’s bad, wait until you see what I have to deal with.”

“7 younger brothers, and 2 honorary younger brothers that I had and _have_ to deal with on the daily.” Despite his visible tiredness, his tone suggested that he didn’t mind having to look over them so much. 

“I only have my little sister, but she’s as much of a pain as she is cute.” Your eyes lock with turquoise, and both of you simultaneously release a sound between a sigh and a laugh. 

“Older sibling night hours?” You offer.

He lets out an appreciative hum, “More like older sibling noon hours, really.”

* * *

It’s been two hours since you’ve gotten up from your chair. It’s not that you don’t like Tsuzuru’s company, far from it actually, but your back was starting to hurt and you were getting real fidgety. You needed a walk.

“Minagi-san, do you mind if I get something to drink?”

“Not at all, we’ve been at this for a while.” At his signal, you stood up from your chair and fished through your bag for your wallet. 

Pausing, you turn back to look at him for a couple of seconds. He was typing furiously fast, but his eyes were droopy and lidded. If you asked him if he wanted anything he’d probably say no, but that didn’t mean you weren’t gonna try giving him something. He mentioned not having a least favourite food, so coffee milk would probably do, right?

Tsuzuru’s eyes tear away from his laptop, catching you staring at him. Before he could ask if something was wrong, your body suddenly tensed before dashing off.

He sighed, letting his eyes rest for a bit while you were still out. He barely got any sleep last night, and the light emitted by the screen was starting to make his retinas burn. Despite his drowsiness, he manages to let out a small huff to mask his growing smile.

Your ears were red again.

* * *

Discretely hiding the milk cartons as you re-entered the library, you jokingly wondered if Mankai Company’s playwright would be asleep on a library table again. 

“No way,” you murmured in disbelief, setting the cartons on the desk the two of you occupied. There was neither the click-clack of his keyboard nor swift ASMR scribbling on his notebook. Hadn’t you only been gone for 5 minutes?

You debated waking him up for a moment, maybe even teasing him for immediately falling asleep as soon as you left. Maybe you’d press the cold drink next to his cheek to shock him.

You do none of those, and let him sleep for as long as possible. He said he didn’t have any work for the evening so no harm, no foul right?

Unzipping your pencil case, you spot your trademark green sticky notes. You had thought about giving him another note again but never found the opportunity to until today. Of course, if you wrote one now he’d definitely know it was you.

It was sorta embarrassing, but you didn’t mind him knowing.

Ah, but you didn’t really want him to see it while you were in front of him?

“Let me just,” muttering to yourself, you hid the sticky note in one his jacket’s pockets. He shifted slightly, causing your heart to stop for a moment.

_Don’t wake up_ , _don’t wake up_ …

When his eyes don’t flutter open, you let out an audible sigh. Well, whether the brunet was asleep or not you still had work to do.

30 minutes pass when the actor finally woke up. He’s still a little dazed and thoughts still a little muddled when he sees you out like a light in front of him. 

Maybe, as he’s walking back home, the humiliation and shame of falling asleep while waiting for you would hit him;

but right now he’s focused on the golden rays of the setting sun hitting your gentle, sleeping features and he’s absolutely entranced. Tiny sighs, soft breathing, a picture of peacefulness.

Seriously, Tsuzuru? Just because you like his scripts. Just because you had your similarities. Just because you had a serene sleeping face. Just because your ears turned red around him and _was he allowed to hope_?

Did you even see him for more than just Tsuzuru the Mankai Company Playwright? Tsuzuru the actor? Tsuzuru who’s in your class?

Last month, he thought of you as a sincere fan. Last week, he thought of you as his cute partner.

_And what about now?_ His mind couldn’t supply him an answer right away, but that was okay. There was time for that tomorrow, and the days and weeks after.

His hand extends forward to pet your head when your eyes blink open and lock with his own. 

“Minagi-san?”

He thaws himself out of his frozen stupor and quickly moves to take his hand back. Unexpectedly, you reach your own out to keep it in place.

What were you doing?

“Were you going to…” You trailed off, and by the way your eyes averted from his gaze he could tell you were too embarrassed to finish the question. 

“Yeah,” he replied quietly, “Sorry.”

For a few beats, only silence was exchanged between the two of you; then you spoke up again.

“I don’t mind,” some more beats, “you can, you know.”

There are questions left unsaid, but instead, he lowers his palm down slowly, hovering with a bit of hesitance left. 

“If it’s you,” you start, “it’s okay.”

“Okay.”

His fingers glide over the soft strands and begin caressing the top of your head. 

The concept of time itself didn’t seem to exist as both of you soaked in each other’s quietude. When was the last time he felt all his worries didn’t exist? That he wasn’t constantly worrying about his family, or finances, or university, or scripts. 

“ _Minagi-san_ ,” you began, tone still soft as though not to ruin the atmosphere they created. “It’s important to get some rest too, okay? I worry… I don’t want your health to suffer, so please take care of yourself.”

A rush of endearment overcomes him and if you paid an ounce of attention to his fingertips brushing against your cheeks as he played with your hair, you don’t mention it. He whispers your first name and watches as his index paints a peach across your skin. Your lips part and the palpitations in his heart increase at a pace that can’t be normal.

“I can’t pretend to know, offer to carry your burdens,” you pause, placing your hands atop of his free one, “but if for a while I could relieve you of your stresses, I’d like to stay by your side.”

_Oh_.

He moved his hand from beneath yours and interlocked your digits together. “Then take care of yourself too.”

When you looked like you were about to protest in confusion he squeezed the palm of your hand lightly, drawing circles on them with his thumb.

“Alright, I promise,” you whispered.

A dozen or so seconds of nothing but tranquility passes when Tsuzuru breaks the silence. “Should we rest for a little longer?” 

His eyes have a teasing glint to them, a look rare on the brunet, and something else you can’t describe other than it makes your heart skip a beat. 

“We should be heading home now,” you said, almost regretfully, “but our project still isn’t done, so…”

_ An oath of next time. _

* * *

It really wasn’t any of Masumi’s business, but wasn’t Tsuzuru in a particularly good mood tonight? The younger boy had no plans to be nosy, but it was getting weird. What if he was planning something with the director? He had to make sure he wouldn’t get in the way.

Quietly, he peered over Tsuzuru’s shoulder to look at the green paper the college student has been staring at for the past five minutes.

> ** _I’ve heard it said that people come into our lives for a reason, bringing something we must learn, and we are led to those who help us most to grow._ **

Oh, wasn’t this from one of the musicals the director liked? The dark-haired boy didn’t know how to interpret it, but if it meant he wouldn’t have to share the director as much that was fine by him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> was gonna write for someone else, but the idea came to me while i was about to pass out from doing a school project and i had to write it down
> 
> i want to be spoiled and taken care of by tsuzuru, but i also want to take care of him 
> 
> basically this fic was just "two tired college students want to rest, together, preferably"


	4. omi | a little rain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which omi and reader go on a date, pretty much  
> ⤷ female reader (mentioned only in one not-so-important scene, if it bothers you  
> ⤷ not director reader  
> ⤷ SFW

The first hint was the soft purring of the wind. It was a pleasant and rare sunny day, particularly warm but not intensely so. The light blue sky was radiant, shining against the green waves where a red and white checkered blanket lay. White splashes painted the canvas above, and you found yourself gazing at them as you lay your head down on something soft.

A tiny beep followed by a shutter sound drew your attention to your boyfriend smiling softly at you. A couple of months ago the very thought of Omi taking a picture of you would have rendered you as red as a rose, but now instead of the embarrassment, you decided to focus on your overwhelming affection for him.

You lifted your head up from his lap as he lowered his camera, letting you view the photo. It was always astounding to you how he could take such nice pictures, even from angles you were sure you could never pull off.

“Oh, you actually made me look good in that,” you said appreciatively, laying your head back down after a couple of seconds had passed.

“What do you mean? I had nothing to do with it,” Omi chuckles, his fingers playing with your hair. “You always look good.”

It was still difficult getting used to his compliments though, a work in progress if you will. Feeling your cheeks beginning to sting, you used one hand to lightly smack his chest.

“Omi, how are you so good at complimenting?” you asked softly, a rhetorical question, really, but he answered anyway.

“You’re the one who keeps giving me reasons to compliment you,” he replied, and your heart increased its beating tenfold, just for the slightest millisecond.

“Seriously, do you want my heart to spontaneously combust or something?”

Omi takes his free hand to place it atop your own and drags it to where his heart is. “Like this?” His smiling face renders a bright smile of your own. _That’s what you make me feel, too_.

All of a sudden there was a big huff and puff, and the two of you watched as the leaves started to shake and follow the wind’s movements. The first pearls of the sky, the cool liquid tickling your skin.

Sitting up, you and Omi hasten your paces to clean up the remnants of food from your picnic date. Up to now, the sky had been perfect, but it was beginning to change into a dark grey hue. One, thousands, millions of taps from the sky, falling one after another. The two of you quickly rush from the grassy area to seek shelter.

“I’m pretty sure the weather said it was gonna be clear all day…” you murmured, looking at the downpour ahead of you.

You and Omi don’t always get to go out on dates, being increasingly busy with college, part-time jobs, and his acting. You always treasured the times where the two of you could be together. Often you spent time eating meals together, helping him out with photography club activities, or helping him memorize his lines.

One of the few times you had a whole day free you had wanted to spend it outside with him.

Noticing that you were visibly upset, Omi kissed the top of your head without warning. He interrupts you before you could try to respond.

“Don’t be upset, a little rain won’t stop our date, will it?”

He looked down at you up and down for a second before frowning. “The rain got your clothes wet, though. I don’t want you to get sick.”

“Ah, my apartment is a little far from here and the rain doesn’t look like it’s letting up any time soon.”

Omi grins, “The dorm isn't that far from here.”

* * *

You were initially going to refuse the Izumi’s kindness, but you didn’t want to be stuck in sopping, wet clothes either so you let her lead you to the shower.

“Thank you, Izumi-chan.” She smiled at you, shoving a towel in your arms.

“Stay for dinner, okay? It’d be nice to share my curry with another girl! Ah, I wonder which of the 365 recipes…” Omi’s told you about the director and her… _passion_ for curry, but 365? That’s enough for a whole year! You couldn’t fathom having it for more than 2 days in a row, but every once in a while wouldn’t hurt.

“I heard you make delicious curry! I’ll look forward to it!”

With sparkling eyes, the director grinned before turning to leave you to your privacy. “If you need anything, just ask me! The clothes are next to the sink!”

* * *

Having changed into the t-shirt and shorts Izumi lent you, you looked for either her or Omi. Instead, you found a familiar face.

“Ahh, hello Tsuzuru-kun,” you greeted the younger boy. He jolted up, looking a little shocked to see you.

“Senpai, didn’t know you were gonna visit.” You laughed, shrugging your shoulders.

“I didn’t either, but at least I’ll _finally_ be able to taste Izumi-chan’s curry.” Tsuzuru tensed in front of you, a bit of a grimace present in his features.

“We had curry _just_ the other day…”

You pity him, you really do.

“Ah, if you’re looking for Omi I saw him go inside his room.” You trailed after Tsuzuru as he showed you to the door.

Thanking him, you stepped inside the room. Immediately, you could tell which side of the room was your boyfriend’s. The decorations were predictable to his taste.

Plopping down on his bed, you notice a black hoodie you’ve seen him wear before.

He probably wouldn’t mind, right?

Slipping into the hoodie instantly made you feel warmer, a stark but welcome contrast from the rainy weather outside. You close your eyes, reveling in the familiar scent surrounding you and bringing you to slumber.

* * *

You hear your name being whispered, your body gently being shaken to consciousness. Eyes still struggling to open, you reach out to the body in front of you.

“Sleepy?” Omi asked, arms enveloping you in a loving embrace as you quickly find a spot and nuzzle your face onto his chest.

“I guess I was more tired than I thought,” you reply, “What time is it?”

“Time for dinner, actually. The Director’s excited to feed you curry,” his quiet laughter rouses you awake this time, your eyes fluttering open to the sight of Omi lying beside you. Scooting yourself upwards, you position yourself face to face with him.

“We probably shouldn’t keep her waiting, then.”

For a few moments, he stared at you, pulling at the strings of his hoodie.

Realizing what he was focused on you began to explain yourself as best as you could, “I was looking for you, and it was just there so I… it’s nice, it smells like you… is it alright?”

Lowering his head, his lips brushed yours, softly, delicately, like a haze, like a drizzle on the leaves from the rain on a summer evening. As soon as it arrived, it had departed.

“Keep it,” he pulls you up from his bed, combing through your hair for you, giving you once last once over before grinning, “we’re good to go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Omi fic was requested by two anons on my tumblr, currywaifu.tumblr.com :> a bit shorter than I usually would write, oops
> 
> Somehow, my first 3 fics were the yosei boys. Next up will be a certain professional sleeping companion.


	5. azuma | pampering you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which the reader gets pampered by azuma  
> ⤷ gender-neutral reader  
> ⤷ director reader  
> ⤷ SFW

The amount of sleep you get is a gamble between 4 hours and 20 hours, no in-between. Tonight was clearly heading towards the former, well if the caffeine swimming in your bloodstream had anything to say about it.

And that’s on coffee addiction, periodt.

It's pretty tough, on one hand, you valued your sleep. A comfy bed and a nice pillow taking you on a trip to meet the Greek god of slumber Hypnos himself was always ideal.

On the other hand, there were just too many things to do and too little time to do them. Sure, you had finished your work for the day, but you had a whole list of things you could stay up for without feeling an ounce of regret morning come.

Itaru told you that he saw a lot of potential in you ever since you opened up your wallet for that cat game everyone was playing during “The Great Sardine Search”. Was that supposed to be a compliment?

It started out with him recommending a few more casual and cute games, the usual cat and dog idle time waster games. After a few weeks, he had proclaimed it was time to “drag you into gacha hell with him,” whatever that meant.

It only started with a simple rhythm game, which not only had cute characters but was pretty free to play friendly.

Looking through the list the local gamer DMed you, you sighed in disappointment. Was it directed at Itaru for dragging you into this hellhole, or at yourself for succumbing to the joy and eternal suffering of gacha games? Who’s to say, really.

_Obey Me!, three different Ikemen games, Twisted Wonderland, two Ensemble Stars games, a good amount of battle RPGs, one with handsome spirits, another with humanized swords, and a good amount of idol music games with either cute boys or girls_ to name just some of the titles.

Just looking at the google docs gave you a headache, they even came with little summaries and color-coded notes that made you wonder if Itaru tried out all of these at one point, even the otome ones. The very thought made you chuckle, plopping onto your bed as you decided to finally download one.

* * *

3 hours. Well, 2 hours and 48 minutes but who needs to know the finer details?

You’ve hit a new low, congratulations. Might as well have stayed up the whole time instead of going to sleep, but you ended up exhausting all your energy both in-game and otherwise. You ended up looking at gameplay guides until you inevitably passed out.

You wanted to sleep-in but there was still work to do. Trudging out of your bedroom and into the kitchen, several boys were already eating their breakfast.

“Good morning,” some of them turned to greet you, and you could see Yuki’s… disgust? Concern? Concern hidden under the guise of disgust?

“You look like a raccoon,” Yuki says bluntly as he stabs his pancake with a fork, “your shirt doesn’t even match your pants.”

You laugh, albeit tiredly, as you look down at the shirt you randomly snagged from your closet. Oh, haven’t seen this one in a while.

“That bad?” 

Yuki scoffs at your question like it even needed to be asked, “you looked like you chose it blind.”

“Fufu, I’m sure there must be a reason why our dear director stayed up late,” a voice behind you says, patting down the bird’s nest on your head. It was difficult to resist his touch, even if it was just that little, and you found yourself shifting into a position where he’d have more access to pet you.

Did he say you had a _good reason_ for staying up? If he thought so kindly of you, you’ll let it stay that way for as long as possible. 

“ _Oh my_ , our director sure is affectionate today,” you didn’t realize that your eyes had closed until they fluttered open again, looking straight up at an amused Azuma.

“Sorry, having a hard time staying awake,” you muttered, still enjoying the man’s healing touch.Ahh, no wonder he was so popular. Not only was he beautiful and a gentleman, but you could feel your stamina bar slowly filling up just by him petting you on the head.

“Agh, it’s too early in the morning for this,” Yuki grumbled, looking away to finish the rest of his meal, “you better fix yourself later.”

You were going to dig in the food Omi so helpfully served you, but Azuma’s eyes scrutinizing your face made you more conscious than usual. Sure, Yuki mentioned your eye bags but he seemed more bothered by your not-so-cute outfit choice. 

With Azuma, who always did his best to maintain and improve his appearance, it was a little different.

“You poor thing, someone as cute as you doesn’t deserve to look so tired,” he tutted, letting out a thoughtful hum. It was difficult to read Azuma’s face, but gears seemed to be turning in his head as he combed through your hair. 

He paused his ministrations to bring your face closer, and you quickly averted your gaze. You weren’t sure if the other boys were watching, but still!

“Azuma, can you-“

“Come to my room later, okay? If you’re going to stay up, at least let me help you take care of your skin, hmm?”

* * *

The offer was tempting. It was kind of embarrassing going to a man’s room at night, even more, embarrassing to have him look at your face closely, regardless if it was just to help you with your skin!

Then again, he was a comforting presence. Being around him rejuvenated your spirit, which was very needed after that horrible no event card, x10 summon and the migraine Sakyo’s logistics lecture gave you.

Knocking on his door, Azuma personally greeted and escorted you inside. He sat you down on his bed as he walked away to grab a whole tray of products, the different colors and sizes momentarily distracting you. You weren’t sure if you could count properly at this point, but weren’t there 10 different products? 

“I think these products will work best with your skin. There are ten steps so pay _close attention_ to _me_ , okay?”

Something about the way he just said things were so _alluring_? It really wasn’t fair to you. 

“Alright,” you watched as he plucked an amber-colored bottle from the tray, pushing the nozzle that released its contents onto his fingers. It looked like an oil product, shining as the pads of his fingers touched your face. 

“This is an oil cleanser, it removes your make-up and draws out other oil-based impurities,” he explained, beginning to massage the cleanser in. By instinct you shut your eyes, enjoying the sound of laughter coming from Azuma.

“Don’t get sleepy yet, director~ We still need to wash your face a few times after this.”

* * *

After washing your face for the second time, Azuma said you could finally relax. Well, you were gonna take him up on that suggestion.

Tomorrow you’ll take note of all the different skincare products and the steps in the routine, but for now, it was hard to pay attention, what with Azuma pampering you and his silvery voice lulling you into sleep.

Surely there were a few more steps to go, right? You’ll get some shut-eye until he finishes, then. 

Azuma takes notice immediately of your lack of responsiveness, not even a gentle hum to let him know you were listening. Watching the steady rise and fall of your chest, he smiles to himself as he continues. It’s not often he gets to see this side of you, so he thinks himself pretty lucky. He’ll spoil you as much as you want.

* * *

Your hair being played with rouses you awake and even through the haze of drowsiness and the lack of lights in the room, you can tell Azuma’s been at this for a while. 

“Good morning, sleeping beauty,” he says softly, and you were sure his playful teasing pinked your face.

“Sorry, how long was I asleep?” When you entered Azuma’s room there was still some noise outside from the rest of the boys, but now the silence made it feel like you two were the only people still up.

Of course, with someone like Itaru and maybe even Banri around, you doubted it.

“Long enough for me to finish my own nightly routine, actually.” 

“Sorry for taking up your bed space. I’m sure you want your beauty sleep, too.” 

You should move, but now you felt much too comfortable to even leave the bed. You knew some of the other boys have already slept over with him, Mankai’s local amnesiac being a frequent bed invader himself; would he be alright with it if you slept over?

You looked up at him, figuring out what to say or waiting for him to pitch the idea himself, but he only stared at you, patiently waiting for what you had to say for yourself.

“Could I sleep here tonight?” The corners of his eyes crinkled, lips lifted upwards. Maybe you never gave it much thought, but at that moment he gave off a warm glow, not unlike a fireplace on a cold, winter night.

“My room _and_ bed will always have a space vacant for you, director.” His dulcet tones were like honey to your ears, sweet and loving, and like a moth to a flame you were entranced.

He carefully adjusted the pillows, lifting the blanket before snuggling beside you. He left a small space between the two of you, leaving you with the choice to come closer or not. 

Scooting your body nearer, you turn around so that you faced the wall instead of him. 

“Little spoon this time, then?” You don’t respond, not really finding a reason to do so. At first, he’s stroking your arm, fingertips drawing incomprehensible patterns and shapes against your skin. First on your hands, slowly moving upwards to your forearm, until he reached your shoulder where you could finally make out a shape.

Stopping him for a moment, you shift slightly to take his palm and trace back a heart.

“Oh, are you playing with me?” He murmurs, now fully encircling his arms around you, his stomach resting against your back. Your legs tangle slightly with his, as tucks his chin by your shoulder, making you two inseparable. 

In the darkness, his embrace was like a small dose of heaven, and your senses were beginning to shut down once more. 

He breathes in your sweet scent, and you take in the rhythmic beat of his heart as both of you finally close your eyes. 

“Good night, Azuma.”

“Good night, lovely.”

* * *

When Azuma woke up, he was face to face with his precious director engulfed in his arms, still in dreamland. During the night you must have turned around to face him. He briefly considered waking you up or moving you to get up but shut the thought down just as fast. His skin care routine could wait a few minutes.

Silently, he observes your peaceful face for a little longer.

Sometimes getting up early isn’t bad at all. After all, he gets to see a cute sleeping figure beside him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is dedicated to sleepy-ruri from tumblr. the request was fluffy cuddling with Azuma, and I got inspired both by her and my own experience with my mom pampering me with skincare products oops
> 
> the gacha games i listed at the start? those are only some of the many i have tried and still play. i am suffering, but A3!, Obey Me!, Twisted Wonderland, and IkeVamp, IkeRev, MLQC, and Ensemble Stars (Music in particular) are my most active ones rn... still a lot, oops


	6. tsumugi | a waltz to remember

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which tsumugi has two left feet, and the reader is trying their best to help him  
> ⤷ gender-neutral reader  
> ⤷ not director reader  
> ⤷ SFW

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just wanted to say that I'm really grateful for the kudos and comments I get :> it really makes me happy and motivates me to write more! also, remember to wash your hands, everyone.

“A modern, theatrical take on Swan Lake… hmm, wouldn’t that fit someone from the Spring troupe more?”

Izumi pouted, “I already asked! None of them are free to be a guest actor, you’re my only hope Tsumugi!”

Tsumugi considered the director’s offer. Truth be told, he wasn’t that familiar with the original ballet nor did he know what to expect out of a modern retelling, but it was always good to get experience in different genres and modes. He currently wasn’t expected to be in any Mankai Company plays either, so as long as he organized his tutoring schedule he should be fine.

Turning back to the director he nodded. “I’ll be taking the role then, director.”

Clapping her hands together, Izumi grinned excitedly. “I’ll make sure to tell their director! Ah, hold on, I haven’t told you what your role will be yet, oops.”

Sensing it, he immediately shook off the upcoming apology. “It’s fine, it’s my fault for not asking either. I didn’t agree to a weird role or anything, right?”

Shaking her head, the brunette looked at her phone. “It says here you’ll be playing the role of Wolfgang, Prince Siegfried’s tutor.”

A tutor? With a laugh, Tsumugi thought how fitting it must be for him to take this role. He doesn’t know much about the tutor’s personality, but at the very least he’s ready to deliver any teacher or educator type of action need be.

Though the feeling was nothing new with every new role he took, he found himself buzzing with excitement for the future practices to come.

* * *

“Thank you for taking up the role, Tsukioka-san,” the troupe president said, shaking his hand, “it’s a bit last minute, but Tachibana-san was kind enough to help me look for a guest actor.”

“Thank you for having me as well,” Tsumugi replied, “I read through the script and I can’t wait to become Wolfgang onstage.”

In the ballet, the tutor gets drunk on wine during Prince Siegfried’s birthday celebration. Eden Troupe’s playwright decided to transform that character, now nicknamed Wolfie, into a normally well-mannered tutor who has passionate rants about history when drunk.

_Izumi and Tasuku had laughed when he told them. It was rare to have Tasuku laugh out loud, but they were also at a bar so that might have something to do with it._

_“Eh? This role should be easy for you then! I was right to give it to you!” The director exclaimed, clapping him on the back with a lot more strength he thought possible from her._

_His best friend shook his head in disbelief, “not too far off from the truth then, based on how the three of us are like when we drink.”_

While the role itself was new, there was a sense of familiarity to it that made it easier for Tsumugi to slip into character. The lines themselves rolled off with ease from his tongue, and with guidance he trusted himself enough to embody the mannerisms of the character.

There was only one problem.

He watches you get up from your seat in the audience and head up the stage, your back turned to the chairs to face him and his fellow actors. You walked with such confidence that it was hard not to be captivated by your presence.

“Looks like I’m back again,” with a broad and charming grin several members of the troupe cheered loudly, while the newer and quieter members clapped politely.

“I see some new faces, welcome!”, you greeted everyone, telling them your name, “and I’ll be your choreographer!”

Dance. They had to dance and unfortunately for him and the poor souls that have to partner up with him, Tsumugi has two left feet.

The last time he was required to dance was probably way back in high school for a school play production, and no way did dancing to Seussical the Musical qualify as recent or relevant experience.

You threw a glance at him, noting his worried gaze, and tried to indirectly reassure him and the rest of the actors.

“I’m not a strict coach nor do I expect perfection right away, but what’s important is that you constantly put your best efforts. Understood?”

The actors all replied in chorus, and Tsumugi tried to reassure himself. At least it wasn’t some high energy, action-filled choreography or an overly technical dance. A waltz, he can do that much.

“Alright, let’s do some stretches first!”

* * *

“Ah! I’m sorry,” he’s been apologizing for a couple minutes now, and while he tried to keep it discreet between him and his dance partner it didn’t go unnoticed, at least by you.

You’ve been paying special attention to the man with dark blue hair for a while now. At first, you merely observing the unfamiliar faces, new additions to the troupe and guest actors, but something about him struck you as special.

When you watched him during rehearsal an hour ago, you had wondered if the president picked up a new talent. He was able to pull off the tutor’s initial modesty through his subtle acting, and in his silent acquiescence of a glass of wine, he switched into Wolfie, the talkative drunk who was incredibly passionate about history.

_“Where’d you pick him up, prez? He’s obviously no rookie,” you asked the blond beside you, who simply chuckled._

_“That’s Tsukioka Tsumugi, he belongs to Mankai Company actually,” he explained, “it’s his first rehearsal today. He seemed a bit anxious at first, but he’s doing really well.”_

_“Mankai? Should DM Izumi later to reserve a ticket for their next prod,” you murmured, quietly watching the rest of the rehearsal._

He didn’t show any signs of frustration, and he was obviously listening attentively when you did the demonstration, so was it a matter of a lack of practice?

Well, you were gonna find out.

* * *

Tsumugi had an idea of what was to come when you called him after rehearsals concluded.

“Tsumugi-kun, sorry for calling you all of a sudden,” you apologized with a bow, to which the actor returned.

“Not at all, I probably looked like a newborn fawn out there,” well, that much you couldn’t deny, however, you didn’t like that he was putting himself down after his first time. There have been a lot worse than him, whether it be talent or attitude or otherwise.

“It’s your first rehearsal, don’t be so hard on yourself,” you paused for a moment, closing your eyes.

Well, you didn’t plan on reaching out this much to help him, but somehow you couldn’t help yourself.

“Tsumugi-kun, would you like to have extra practice sessions with me?” Hmm… The wording seemed a little better in your head, but it seemed to get the message across.

He was hesitant to accept, “I wouldn’t want to be a bother.”

“Trust me,” you clasped his hands between yours, missing the pink dotting his cheeks as you looked at him with determination in your eyes, “by the time you’re done with me you’d be able to waltz even with your eyes closed.”

* * *

“You really told him _that_? You made it sound like you were talking about a _different_ kind of one-on-one~” Eden Troupe’s director let out a blaring cackle, slamming his beer glass down the bar table.

“Wahh, so naughty uwu ♡~ who knew our ☆ dancing diva ☆ was so forward~~” the troupe’s playwright said, rubbing his shoulders against yours, “why can’t you be like that with ♡ me ♡ wink wink oOF-“ a _slight_ kick to his legs halted _wherever_ that conversation was going to go.

Your head was beginning to hurt, and you didn’t know if it was from the alcohol or whatever the hell you were all talking about. You could even _hear_ the hearts and stars, how was that possible?

“Argh, unlike you perverts I’m sure he understood what I meant from the get-go,” you groaned, briefly swishing the liquid in your glass before downing it in one go. You’d probably end up with a hangover tomorrow but so be it if you could survive tonight without getting charged for homicide. Or maybe even double homicide.

“He’s not an angel, even if he does look like one~”

“Tsumugi-kun _is_ one compared to the two of you. Do your troupe members know that behind closed curtains y’all share one brain cell?” You retorted, completely ignoring the latter comment because yeah, he did look like an angel, what’s there to it? So what if he radiated such a gentle light around him?

“I’m just saying, he’s your fucking type,” the troupe’s director pointed out, the man beside him nodding fervently.

“And I’m a fucking professional,” you insisted, not even an ounce of denial towards his statement.

Raising his hands, the playwright put on his most nonchalant look, a very difficult feat for a drunk person, “oya oya, who can say if y’all decide to bow-chicka-wow-wow, hohoho ☆~”

Calling the bartender for another drink, you came to the realization that you needed better friends.

* * *

Two days after the bar night out and your raging hangover the morning come, you could still feel a migraine coming at the thought of your two friends. Honestly? Fuck them for making you realize that Tsumugi was extremely cute and 200% your type, that wasn’t very fair of them- or HIM for that matter!

Is it even legal to be so cute? The two of you exchanged details on the optimal practice time, and even his texting style was cute! Who knew he’d be so polite even in text? Bless him.

You were going to meet up with Tsumugi at the Mankai Company Theatre, apparently, rehearsals would end earlier tonight so the two of you had the stage for yourselves. You looked around outside for a bit before a familiar face with dark blue hair opened the doors to greet you.

“Thank you for taking the time to teach me,” he said, “I was able to practice the steps on my own, but I just get lost with a partner.”

Oh, if that was the case you have a good idea of what his issue is.

“It’s no problem, Tsumugi-kun. Let’s review the individual steps first before we continue.”

* * *

Feet, hip-distance apart. Step the left foot forward, then the right follows. The left meets the right foot. The right steps back and the left follows. Place the right foot next to the left.

A full box step.

Tsumugi was right, he _was_ able to get the basic steps of a waltz down to a tee. That must mean…

“Alright, now try those same steps while leading me as your partner.”

He let out a breath to prepare himself, before standing in front of you. The distance was far too much, and you ushered him to come closer, “shoulder distance, Tsumugi-kun.”

“Right, sorry,” he walked forward a bit more, awkwardly mirroring your actions, extending his arms forward.

“You’re the lead, and I’m the follow, so place your right hand below my left shoulder blade,” you waited for him to do as you said before continued with your instructions, “and our hands go like this.”

You wrapped your right hand around his left, and was it just the stage lights or were his cheeks dotted with pink? Well, now wasn’t the time to tease him.

Tsumugi’s difficulty stemmed either from being too tense around his partner or from being too afraid to take the lead. Whichever one it was, you were going to crush it as hard as you were crushing on Tsumugi.

“You know, I find it pretty funny,” you began, hoping to ease up his tension by lightening the mood, “that you’re supposed to be playing a tutor, yet I’m tutoring the tutor.”

_His left foot forward, your right foot back._

He laughed, amusement visible in his features. “I actually work as a tutor, too, so it’s just as funny to me.”

_His right foot forward, parallel to the left. Your left foot back, parallel to the right._

“Eh? No wonder it looked so natural! Ah, although you’d probably be good in other roles too? What other roles have you done?”

_His left foot meets his right, and your right meets your left._

So far, so good.

“My first role for Mankai was an angel in love with a human,” Tsumugi said, becoming more immersed into the conversation, “though I’ve done a bunch of roles when I attended school.”

_He steps back with his right foot, and you step your left foot forward._

“I’ve never actually acted, but I’ve always been interested in theatre. I’m always helping productions,” you replied, “an angel? It’s the perfect role for you.”

His left foot steps forward, and unfortunately steps on your right foot.

“Ow, a little too early, Tsumugi-kun,” you wince slightly at the added pressure, and Tsumugi hastily steps back looking extremely apologetic.

“Sorry! I lost track of what the next step was,” he explained, “can we go back to the start?”

You smiled, at least he looked like he was raring to try again. Without a word, you signaled him to begin at starting position once more, your hands linking together.

 _One_ , two, three. _One_ , two, three.

“Were you caught off-guard by what I said?” You asked, his grip on your hand slacking slightly before fixing it, “sorry, I just said what was on my mind.”

“It’s fine! You just surprised me a bit.”

_Forward, side, close, back, side, close, forward, side, close, back, side, close._

“It’s just the two of us, Tsumugi-kun, so don’t be afraid to make mistakes, okay?” you locked eyes with him, waiting for him to respond.

“Thank you.”

“See? We were able to do a waltz box step together! If you’re free Thursday, I’ll help you fix the underarm turns!” Your smile was bright, radiant and blinding, all directed at him. Suddenly his face felt warm all over.

He was quick to arrange the next session.

* * *

“You know, if you’re supposed to act drunk, it wouldn’t matter if you stepped on your partner’s toes here and then,” Tasuku said off-handedly.

Tsumugi didn’t reply immediately. Eden troupe’s director had actually told him after their latest practice that it didn’t matter if he made a mistake every now again as long as it wasn’t too exaggerated.

He hesitated a bit before responding, “that’s true, but it’d be nice to get a whole sequence right without stepping on someone’s feet.”

It wasn’t a lie, but he was still relieved Tasuku looked like he accepted that answer, “would be nice to have that skill stored just in case.”

Even so, you looked so delighted when he did well. If just for a little while longer, he’d like to see you direct a smile at him again.

* * *

You were really, _really_ grateful to see Tsumugi again. It was always a pleasure meeting up with him, dancing with him, learning something new about him.

Despite all of this, your toes could only take so much pressure in one session.

“Somehow, this is kind of embarrassing,” Tsumugi said as he stepped on your feet for the umpteenth time tonight.

Unable to resist the urge to tease him, you replied, “huh, you’re really tripping all over your feet for me, angel~”

You felt a little bit guilty when you saw his cheeks kissed pink like a carnation because no matter how cute he was when flustered, you didn’t want to make him uncomfortable. Your lips parted to apologize, but you found yourself befuddled by how he remained silent.

 _One_ , two, three. _One_ , two, three.

He was quiet, merely staring at you until he moved to turn you around, letting go of the arm beneath your shoulder. The two of you were facing each other once again when he finally said anything.

 _One_ , two, three. _One_ , two-

“You’re the one who’s the angel here.”

You stepped forward, accidentally stepping on his feet. The two of you were caught off-guard, you more so by his response than the fact that you made a mistake. As you stumbled forward, he circled his arms around you to serve as an attempt to steady you.

Tsumugi looked at you worriedly. He meant it as a compliment! You let him off easy every time he made mistakes while simultaneously helping him improve, plus giving him praise every time he did something right. Like a guardian angel of sorts? Or the angel over the shoulder?

His thoughts get interrupted when he hears you mutter something with a semblance of his name.

“Tsumugi-kun,” the said man watched in awe as you widen your eyes, a flush creeping across your cheeks like a vine of scarlet honeysuckle, or a freshly bloomed rose bush or a myriad of other flowers he could associate with you right now but one thing was certain.

This was different than the admiration he felt for you and what you do when you would dance with him, in front of the other actors. This was different than the appreciation he felt when you gave him words of encouragement. This was different from the pang in his chest when you teased him lightly.

No, not different.

It was an amalgamation of all of those things and more.

Tsumugi knows a crush when he sees it; when he feels it. This was a full-blown crush.

He knew from the rush of endearment he felt when you stepped back slightly from his grasp, your hands fanning your face wildly. He knew from the way you shifted your eyes around the room, avoided locking eyes with him and yet giving him millisecond glimpses to search for a reaction.

There certainly was a better way of saying this, of doing this. Maybe after he’s returned back to the dorm he could mull over his feelings and think of a better way to confess, maybe bring you to one of his favorite coffee shops, maybe even ask Tasuku and Izumi for advice…

but he wants to let at least a fraction of his feelings out, to relieve him if not for reassurance. He allows himself to be a little hopeful, a little confident that your feelings resemble his if he was to base it off of your reaction.

“Even after our lessons end, could we continue seeing each other?”

For the first time in what felt like hours, which in reality was likely three minutes, your gaze met his own. You’d think about it more later, but his pupils were dilated as he looked at you. Yours might have been, too.

“I’d like that, a lot.”

Tsumugi didn’t step on your feet for the rest of the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> took longer than i expected to write this because i ended up watching a whole ballet on youtube, which led to me watching Barbie's Swan Lake. THEN I forgot to publish this by accident because i got distracted rerolling + playing Hypnosis Mic ARB :")
> 
> i got a request for reader teaching tsumugi to waltz + tsumugi who keeps stepping on their feet, and this was supposed to be 1k words and it tripled by accident because i decided to add plot


	7. tsuzuru | playing pretend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which reader loves discounts, tsuzuru gets dragged into everything, and a wedding happens  
> ⤷ gender-neutral reader  
> ⤷ not director reader  
> ⤷ SFW

He watched you stride over to him, quickly setting your bag down the empty space beside him. Before he could greet you, you slapped what looked to be a flyer in front of him. He was no Kazunari, but the tackiness of the hot pink mixed with crimson made his eyes burn.

“Hn? Did you design this or something?” He asked, turning away from the paper to look at you.

“Tsuzuru!” Watching you pout reminded him a little bit of his younger brothers when they wanted something from him, maybe that was why the brunet couldn’t help but tease you a little bit.

He’s known you for almost two years now, so he can already guess what you’re gonna ask of him. Nevertheless, he patiently waits for you to sit down and begin your business pitch.

“So you remember the cute but affordable cafe we went to two weeks ago right?” When Tsuzuru nods you scoff at yourself, “duh, you’re sleep-deprived not suffering from memory loss. Anyway,”

Tsuzuru intercepts you with a quip of his own, “takes one to know one, right? Who’s the one messaged me at 3 am?”

“It was important!”

“You sent me a TikTok asking if I was a toaster,” he watched the corners of your lips stretch upwards, “because you wanted to take a bath with me… you need help.”

You could only nudge him in retaliation. “It was a 3 am mood, okay? I was going to go to sleep already when I realised I forgot the assigned readings and I went all _what the fuck_.”

“Good grief… Seriously,” Tsuzuru laughed, shaking his head as he read the flyer more carefully this time, “2 for the price of 1 drink of your choice?”

Your eyes sparkled with excitement, “so the fine print _does_ _say_ it has to either be hot chocolate or milk tea, but like, still!”

“I have a shift 6 pm onwards, but,” well, not spending at all would be optimal, but exams finished two days ago and neither of you had the chance to reward yourselves for the hard work, “as long as we don’t stay that long.”

You giggled, trying to suppress your volume as the door burst open with the professor in tow, “you really are the toaster to my bathtub, the left AirPod to my right Air-“

“I’m regretting everything,” he groaned, “not that I mind getting discounts, but will you ever take someone else?”

“Listen, my fellow stingy boi,” with the most serious tone you could muster, you put your hands over his, “for as long as you don’t start dating, I _will_ exploit you in all my schemes.”

* * *

As soon as 4 pm rolled in the two of you were out of the campus. It wasn’t the first time you dragged him into similar endeavours, neither did he have the heart to stop going along with you nor stop you.

Every now and then there would be a special offer or discount for couples, and Tsuzuru was your poor victim. It wasn’t bad, though. The two of you valued affordability and formed some kind of partnership in finding and sharing good deals on all sorts of products.

If that included _coincidentally_ wearing the same outfit colour scheme and walking closer to each other, it wasn’t either of your faults if people assumed you were dating. At least, that’s what he’ll tell himself. If somehow his acting skills and your determination don’t win in the end, he’ll just chide you for bringing him into this and run.

“Looks like we’re not the only ones with the same idea,” you said, the both of you looking at the line just starting to form outside the establishment, “should we get the drinks to go? It’ll be less hassle than trying to get a seat inside.”

Tsuzuru nods, letting you hold onto his arm while falling in line for a special booth specifically for take-outs.

An unfamiliar voice, to Tsuzuru that is, calls out your name; the both of you find the couple directly in front you turned around to face you. When you grip his arm a little tighter, he knows something’s up. For a moment, you stiffen slightly at the sight of your high school ex-boyfriend and the girl beside him who was smiling as awkwardly as you felt. Quickly fixing yourself, you set a grin on your face.

“It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” You replied, stepping a little closer to the boy beside you.

Subconsciously you wrap an arm around Tsuzuru’s waist, and if he’s uncomfortable by that he doesn’t show it. As expected of your favourite actor!

“It really has! You getting the promo too?” With a wide grin, he put his arm around who you presumed to be his girlfriend, “she’s been craving milk tea, so we decided to get some ♡~” Oh? He wants to out-sweet you? Doesn’t matter if it’s intentional or not, he’s gonna get it. You can be petty too!

You pressed the side of your face against Tsuzuru’s shoulder, leaving just enough room for you to be able to reply back.

“Same here~ Tsuzu-kun and I really love the stuff here ♡ we can’t get enough of the flavours- oh, looks like it’s your turn to order?” Gesturing at the front of the booth where the cashier stared at the pair, the female proceeded to order while the guy kept talking. Inwardly, you wished you could tell him to shut the hell up. Was he always this talkative in the past?

“Well, it’s been fun catching up!” Catching up, he says? What the fuck did you guys catch up on? The fact that both of you had dates? Well, not exactly on your case, but he didn’t know that, “I hope you guys enjoy your date ♡!”

Before you could think of the most sickeningly sweet way to phrase a _you too_ , Tsuzuru breaks his silence, “we already are enjoying, thank you.”

Your ex looks slightly shocked, before turning around. Holy shit, your brain.exe isn’t responding, do you close the program or wait for it to respond? Totally forgot that not only was Tsuzuru an actor, but a playwright as well. _Of course_ he’d be good with dialogue.

You weren’t really expecting Tsuzuru to respond. Usually it was you who did the talking, you took responsibility for dragging him along all the time so might as well play the role of the sweet s/o, right?

Still, just one line from him was a pleasant surprise. And to your ex nonetheless!

When it’s your turn to order you quickly slam the payment on the counter, startling both the poor cashier and Tsuzuru. Before he could protest, you wink at him, “let me treat you for your _hard work_ today!”

As the two of you left, your hand hung lightly on his arm, you swore you could feel eyes digging into your skull. You spun around, causing the man beside you to stop his tracks as well, but from what you could tell you didn’t recognise anyone.

“You alright?” Tsuzuru asks, sounding slightly concerned at your sudden action. You looked back to face him, before nodding to reassure him.

“Yep! Let’s go find somewhere to sit before you go to work. We still have some time to hang out.”

Neither of you noticed the two people staring at you from inside the cafe.

“Oi oi, ain’t that Tsuzuru?”

“Haa… looks like we’ve seen something we shouldn’t have?”

* * *

Finally sat at a park bench, you found yourself a little bit more conscious of how touchy you were being a while ago. Sure, holding onto his arm here and there when people could see was fine, but if he wasn’t okay with it you had to apologise.

“Sorry, was I too much a while ago?” He sipped onto his drink for a moment, before shaking his head. He looked slightly exasperated, but it didn’t seem to be directed at you.

“Was that your ex? He was kind of annoying.” You chuckled.

“Yeah, but like way back in high school so I’m not pressed or anything. Broke up through text, had the audacity to use text abbreviations plus send a heart emote with his message. Character limit, I guess.”

Tsuzuru’s expression twisted, and you couldn’t tell if what he felt was wry amusement or disgust. Both, perhaps? “That ain’t it, chief. He’s either an insensitive jerk or an, uh… insensitive eccentric… you’re really okay?”

Rolling your eyes, you brought back your hand to his arm to squeeze it to put him at ease. “Obviously! Tsuzuru, you and me, we make a great pair! Plus, your ad-lib totally shook him! Simple but effective, it was a nice touch.”

Just as Tsuzuru was getting used to the added weight on his arm, the pressure lightened up once again. You one-sidedly clink your cups together before you resumed drinking the beverage, “we should do this again sometime.”

Which part?

The two of you always went out to redeem promos and discounts anyway, that much was a given, so did you mean something else?

“Yeah, we should.”

* * *

He did not expect to be confronted within a minute of coming back to the dorm. Itaru, Kazunari, Banri, Omi, and Tsumugi all simultaneously looked at him upon his entrance in the living room.

“Good evening?” He greeted them, albeit a little awkwardly. Is he missing out on something? Were they playing some kind of mind fuck prank or psychology game?

“We were just talking about you,” Tsumugi started before quickly retracting his statement, “ah, wait, that sounded kind of weird right? What we’re trying to say is-”

“Tsuzuroon, I totes get why you never wanna go to mixers!” Kazunari interrupted, adding onto Tsuzuru’s confusion.

“Didn’t know you had it in ya,” Banri continues, “when we saw ya outside the cafe a while ago-“

Oh, _ohhhhh_. That’s what they meant?

For a moment, he feels a smidge of relief from figuring out what he was missing out on, until his stomach plummeted once more. Oh, fuck, that meant at least Banri and some other guy saw him, _with you_. With your hand dangling on his arm, your arm around his waist, your face pressed up against his shoulder-

He can feel his face start to heat up, though he’s not sure if it’s more getting caught or more recollecting what happened a while ago.

“Can’t believe you’re dating someone now, GJ,” Itaru says with his shit-eating grin, before looking back down towards his phone.

He should really be clearing up the misunderstanding. It was simple- the two of you were just friends, you went together to redeem a promo, that was it.

“Hey, that’s not-“

“Is it someone from Yosei?” Omi interjects, looking a little bit thoughtful as he tried guessing who it could be, “Hmm… the one you’re with a lot, right? What was their name again?”

He prays to the first deity he could think of, which was for naught because Tsuzuru’s ears perk up as soon as the photographer says your first name. At a loss for words for how fast your identity was revealed, Omi’s chuckles get echoed by the other boys.

He didn’t get to deny it. He wouldn’t be surprised if by tomorrow morning, everyone thought the two of you were a thing.

Tsuzuru thinks this should be more of a pain to him, but he can’t will it in himself to be bothered by the assumption they have on his relationship. If for a little while he could avoid Kazunari wanting to bring him to mixers, he could consider this an advantage.

* * *

When your phone alarm rings you jolt up from your bed, panicking slightly until you realise that you didn’t have class today. Lazily stretching to grab your phone, you notice a text from Tsuzuru.

“Pfft, can’t believe I influenced him this much, lol.” You muttered, setting down your phone to make breakfast.

It’s not until you enter the kitchen that you realise you were smiling the whole time.

* * *

Other than a few knowing looks from Omi and a curious gaze here and there from the purple-haired one (you’ve come to learn his name was Juza), nothing really changed between the two of you.

Until Tsuzuru gets hit by the familiar sight of you rushing towards the table he was situated at. Your eyes weren’t brimming with excitement, no visible smile, so he braced himself for what you had to tell him.

“I need a favour. You can refuse if you want, but you’d actually be saving my life so hear me out please,” as if to put further emphasis on your current predicament you placed your hands atop of his.

“Go on,” he urged you.

“Not to be a fanfiction trope, but I need you to be my date at my old homeroom teacher’s wedding,” you groaned, “that my ex is also attending.”

Tsuzuru didn’t know if he should comfort you or laugh at the situation, “and you need me to go because-“

“ _Because_ ,” you interjected, “that _dumbass_ asked the group chat if he could bring a date, then encouraged me to bring my date too. Then my competitive dumbass was all like, yeah _we’ll_ see you there!”

You hid your face with your arms, resting your head on the table. “ _Tsuzuruuuu_ , I messed up huhu. I only wanted to go for the reception, what am I doing with my life, I didn’t even like that teacher so why did I accept?” you whined.

Fake dating to redeem promos was one thing, pretending to be a couple in front of your old classmates is another thing, pretending to be a couple while attending a wedding is another spectrum of things.

“When is it?” You raised your head to respond.

“Next Sunday, 10 am. Reception at noon, probably.”

He’s not too sure _why_ he keeps going along with your whims. It could be because you’re a dear friend to him, or he doesn’t mind all that much whenever you’d drag him along to fake-date to get sweet deals hang-out, but he can’t deny that being with you is a nice feeling lowers his stress levels.

“I’ll be your date,” Your eyes immediately snap up to meet his, still traces of hesitance on your face.

“I could totally just make up an excuse on why you or both of us can’t go, are you sure?”

Nodding his head, Tsuzuru was soothed by your usual, bright smile- spectacular to the point that it made him think of the rainbows that came after spring showers. He felt the corners of his lips being tugged upwards; before he could calm himself you wrapped your arms around him, a spontaneous and affectionate embrace.

“Thank you, thank you! Gosh, I love you!” You squealed, and his plan to calm himself down failed ultimately. He was glad your face was buried against his chest right now, at least you wouldn’t be able to see the rising flush on his face; then again, you probably could detect how his heart writhed and thumped.

“What colour are you wearing?” He finally asked, refusing to acknowledge the slight displeasure as you let him escape your caged arms.

“Green or teal, maybe.”

* * *

“We’re in your room exactly why again?” You propped your hands on your hips, giving him a look that said _really_ , _now_.

“We need to practice touching each- okay, wait let me rephrase, ugh…” trailing off, you sat yourself down on your bed as you covering your face with a pillow, your voice coming out muffled, “casual touching.”

“Don’t we already touch each other?” Lowering your pillow to peek at Tsuzuru, he turned away from you in apparent embarrassment, “you know what I mean!”

Tension was building up in the room, much to your chagrin. Tsuzuru had a point. Even though you initiated affection pretty much all the time, the two of you already had a bunch of pre-planned poses to convince people that you were dating.

“I guess I just wanted to do more…” it was hard for you to admit that to yourself, much more out loud, but it was the truth. You didn’t have any grounds to ask more of him, but selfishly you wanted him to reciprocate your affection.

You could swear up and down that it was just you craving affection, but the truth of the matter was that it was _his_ affection you wanted- you craved being physically and emotionally close to him.

The line you drew was getting blurry. You didn’t want to ruin anything.

The weight on the bed shifted.

“Hey,” Tsuzuru looped an arm around your waist, gently petting the top of your head, “don’t overthink this. Just be natural, whatever you do I’ll go along with and vice versa. This is just the same as all the other times.”

It didn’t feel like it.

“Thank you,” you replied, releasing the pillow from your death grip and lightly hugging it instead, “I was overthinking it. Can you stay for a while, or do you have to go? I feel like watching Whisper of the Heart.”

Tsuzuru scoffed lightly, “We watched that last time. Laputa: Castle in the Sky or nothing.”

With a laugh you shoved your pillow at Tsuzuru, standing up from the bed. “I’ll get some snacks, brb.”

As soon as you exited the room Tsuzuru buried his face against the fluffy cushion, letting out a noise between ardour and agony. This was just method acting, they’ve done this before. No need to get all worked up about it.

* * *

As luck would have it, you and Tsuzuru immediately ran into a bunch of your old classmates.

“Ne? Is this your boyfriend?” One of the girls asked, giving him a quick glance, “your outfit matches his eyes! Love it~”

Tsuzuru coughed lightly.

“Shh, I was waiting for him to notice!” You giggled, looking into Tsuzuru’s eyes before looking away within a few seconds, “his eyes are really beautiful, I doubt I could ever do them justice.”

“Hey, don’t say that,” Tsuzuru swoops in, curling an arm around your waist, “you look really lovely today.”

“Tsuzuru,” you murmured, heart hammering a little faster, wondering if he was being as truthful as you were.

In the eyes of the girls in front of you, they were looking at two bashful lovers, and they were eating it all up.

“Wah! I wish I could get a boyfriend as sweet as him!” With a pout, you situated yourself to stand a little closer to your date.

“Well don’t get any ideas, he’s mine~” you teased them, laughing along with the rest of the group.

* * *

When the vows of the couple began, you found yourself sniffling.

“I thought you didn’t like that teacher,” Tsuzuru whispered jokingly, but he reached out to hold your hand for comfort, brushing his thumb against your knuckles.

You ignored him, actively listening to the bride’s speech.

_“Falling in love with you was like entering a house and finally realising I'm home. When you smile at me, I feel the glow of the sun against my skin. When your eyes are locked on mine, it's like I can see countless of stars instead of just pupils. Having you in my life makes me feel like everything's possible in this world, we simply work together. With you, I’ve discovered so many things, things I’ve come to treasure, but the best discovery of all was love.”_

Eyes stuck on the scene in front of you, you failed to notice the look of longing from the man beside you. It was as if the words uttered all applied to you, and yet somehow the words he could write about you wouldn’t be enough to express what he felt.

He settles on retrieving his handkerchief from his pocket and gently dabbing it around your eyes.

* * *

The whole reception was a bliss that came and went too fast for your liking. There was the plus that your ex miraculously couldn’t attend the reception, as well as the chef’s kiss worthy buffet, but you owed it all to Tsuzuru.

It was the same feeling for Tsuzuru, who didn’t feel awkward or out of place the whole time with you by his side. He kept looking forward to the next thing you would do, regardless if people were even watching the two of you or not.

When you let him feed you a slice of cake.

When he used his thumb to wipe off the crumbs near your lips.

When you rest your head against his shoulder.

When he cheered for you even with an unsuccessful bouquet toss.

Nothing felt faked today.

After saying your goodbyes to everyone, the two of you headed home hand-in-hand in silence. Every time you took a glance at the man beside you, so much feelings burst from within, but words themselves could not escape.

Stopping outside your apartment, you let go of one hand.

“Thank you for today,” you whisper, cupping his face to kiss him right where the corner of his lips ended, barely missing them. Tuning out every noise but yourselves, you heard his breath hitch.

“Are… are we still pretending?” Tsuzuru waited with bated breath for your response.

Mustering up all your courage, you shake your head. “I’m not. Are you?”

Squeezing your hand, he pressed his forehead against yours, “I’m not either,” he said quietly, before softly pressing his lips against yours.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 69 kudos atm, naisu
> 
> Thank you for the support, they really motivate me to work more. I like reading the comments a lot, they make me smile :>
> 
> Also I'm such a hoe for Tsuzuru at this point, he's so relatable and a spirit animal but also I would kiss him yeah what's wrong with that 
> 
> I love fake dating, I'm sorry to every trope I abused to make this.


	8. banri | the sims

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which banri and reader play the sims and use it as an excuse to flirt with each other  
> ⤷ gender-neutral reader  
> ⤷ not director reader  
> ⤷ SFW

“A laptop with no mouse, you’re such a pro-gamer.” Banri teases you, lifting the blankets slightly to let you settle in beside him. Fixing your position on the bed, you let out a laugh as he yelped from the skin contact.

“Your feet are fucking cold!”

You stick your tongue out at him, before turning on your laptop. “Then don’t make fun of my set-up, e-boy! You’re the one who wanted to game in bed.”

“I was expecting gacha-“

“I have event burnout,” you whine in protest, “I need a break from my eternal suffering, so we’re playing the Sims 4.”

Shuffling closer to you, his thighs now beside yours, he watches you load up an unfinished sim from your gallery. He snickers as he looks at the avatar closely.

“Oh, so we’re making each other then?” Banri asks, noting the various clothes that looked incredibly similar to stuff he actually owns. Clearly, you already got a head start. “My face looks kind of fucked though.”

Giggling, you turn to face him. “Obviously it’s hard to do your _gorgeous, one of a kind_ face justice, have pity on my average sim-making skills.” You joked, observing Banri’s expression for a comeback. Whatever he throws at you, you’ll be prepared to throw back.

“Then I’ll let you look at my face as a reference, for _as long as you want_ ,” he replies, the quirk of his lips letting you know he had more to say. “Just like how you’re looking at me right now,” he continues, a little softer this time.

Caught off-guard, you force yourself to turn back to the bright blue screen as Banri’s sim lets out various sounds of Simlish non-sense. Did joining theatre make him even more smooth or something?

 _And here you thought you could avoid the feelings continuously sprouting in your chest_. You supposed inviting the object of your affections over to your place didn’t help your case; with your friend spending more and more time as an actor, you secretly longed for and cherished the time you spent together.

Still, with how he grew and bloomed as a person it was hard not to catch feelings.

With a boyish grin set on his face, he found himself revelling in your cute embarrassment. “Made ya speechless?”

“Something like that,” you said half-heartedly.

You always found him attractive, bowl-cut, dumb animal print and all. Of course, as if you would ever tell him seriously lest his ego gets bigger. Yet when you were looking at a picture of him for reference, your thoughts weren’t ‘ _yeah my friend is attractive, what a good reference for this sim_ ’.

Instead, it was more along the lines of, ‘ _I’d like to punch his mouth, with my mouth_.’

Slightly concerned by your lacklustre response, Banri looks at your face for a sign of discomfort or anger. Lips slightly pouted, eyebrows somewhat furrowed, and eyes completely focused on the screen.

Wait, what were you doing?

“Yo what are you doing to my face! Stop stretching it out!” You were smiling again, so he wasn’t all that bothered by your petty retaliation really, plus it was nice to know he hadn’t said anything that was out of line with you.

“Fine, fine. I wanna get Banny’s face right.” You say.

Banri opens his mouth, then closes it, then lets out a huff of laughter. “You have a nickname for the sim now?” He was about to say more until one of your hands takes hold of his face.

Settsu Banri was not easily flustered, nor did his face turn red from small, insignificant touches. The tingling feeling rendered within him as your fingers brush against his skin, however, was present no matter how much he denied it.

This weird silence wasn’t really his thing, but if he spoke up now or teased you back, there was a chance you would stop. Why didn’t he want you to stop?

Your index finger traces his jawline, the pad briefly meeting his cheek before sliding upwards to the bridge of his nose. He didn’t close his eyes, but with your intense stare piercing through him, his gaze shifts towards somewhere, _anywhere_ else.

The wall was a nice place to set his eyes on. Not so plain that his thoughts would wander but not so cluttered that he wouldn’t know where to start. There was a time when your room was littered with posters from different shows, games, bands- he could remember it pretty well, having made fun of you for it.

At the present a choice few posters still there, but now there was also the addition of photos of you and other people on the wall. Some were polaroids, others were pictures you printed out yourself and taped on.

From afar, he spots several photos with him in it- when you went thrift shopping together, the cultural festivals you dragged him to and the music festivals he visited with you. A part of him is pleased, smug even, to know that he’s important enough to ~~you~~ have his pictures up there.

He hadn’t really thought about it before, but when did the two of you get so close to hang out all the time? You had always been chill with him even when he was a delinquent, but after joining Mankai the two of you had grown closer.

“Oi, Banri. Look at this!”

Huh, when did you stop touching his face?

When Banri looked at the screen appraisingly, his sim version- Banny, you called him, looked a lot more like him. You even dressed him in clothes he would’ve chosen for himself.

“Like the animal print? Downloaded a bunch for you.”

He whistled, looking at the different outfits you chose. “You did pretty good, I guess. Could probably do better though.”

You scoff, looking a little doubtful. Sure, Banri excelled in many things, but making a _good_ sim look-a-like isn’t a common talent, especially without any practice.

“Have you even played the Sims 4 before?”

Shrugging, Banri pulled the device onto his lap from yours. “2 and 3. Never touched 4, should be easy enough.”

He plays around with the options for a bit. After entering your name and gender, he looks through the possible aspirations and traits he could give your sim, which was easy enough. He briefly wondered if you would protest being given a mismatched trait, but when he hovers the cursor over one you don’t react at all. 

Calling out your name, he eyes you from his peripheral. This wasn’t the first time you spaced out today. One arm went in front of you as he waved his hand to catch your attention.

“You can… also,” you paused, chewing on your lip for a few seconds, “for reference. If you wanted.”

He whips his head to face you completely, looking a little shell-shocked.

_‘If I wanted?’_

He paused, figuring out how to phrase his response. Honestly, he probably didn’t need to- he already has your face mapped out and memorised in his brain at this point, but there was no way he was admitting that.

Besides, if you offered it wouldn’t be wrong wanting to accept.

“Not that I need it, but I’m just making sure, ya hear?” His voice was the same as always, not a sign of wavering to hint at his anticipation or nervousness. “Bet you just want my hands all over ya or something.” He said, doing his best to manage a playful tone but not quite making the cut.

If someone else had said it you would have felt called out, or at worst offended, but you knew he was merely slipping into the language he most felt comfortable using.

“Don’t flatter yourself.” Your voice came out a little shaky at the start, but thankfully he doesn’t out you for it. “Just don’t be weird about it.” There was no doubt in your mind that your cheeks were hotter than the sun, but you were curious about how it felt.

“No pressure,” Banri said, hoping his face is still the picture of nonchalance despite the erratic thumping of his heart in his chest defying it. “You can back out anytime.”

You don’t answer, steadily avoiding his gaze by observing the hand hovering near your face. It twitched.

The blanket shifts as Banri sits in a way where he could look at you properly, putting the laptop aside.

As soon as you felt his fingers come in contact with your face you immediately shut your eyes, unable to bear the embarrassment. A multitude of questions ran through your head, unable to concentrate on a single one.

 _Why did you offer? Why did he accept? You did the same, so why was it such a big deal if he touched your face? Why did you touch his face in the first place? Why were you so touch-starved? Why did_ ~~_he_ ~~ _it feel so nice?_

You hoped closing your eyes hid the self-consciousness and pleasure you felt at this moment, enjoying his knuckles glide against your skin.

Banri narrows his eyes, stomach twisting at how overwhelmingly adorable you looked and how soft you were. Hell, you were turning him all soft and sappy and disgusting but that was the least of his worries right now. At least your eyes were closed, he doesn’t have to put on a facade— that this was just a friendly thing, because if he was reading the signs right you were both venturing somewhere beyond that.

His thumbs press against your cheekbones, so featherlight the sensation might as well be from a ghost. You stay still, unable— or perhaps unwilling— to move, and as much as you try to hold it in your breaths grow more and more uneven the longer Banri’s hand lingers on your skin.

You wonder if this is as intimate for him as it was for you.

Your skin is warm and soft, he’s a little conscious if the callousness of his fingertips feels uncomfortable to you.

Even with the slight roughness, his fingers felt infinitely tender as they swept through your cheeks.

Following your cheekbone, he moves to your jaw, to your chin, and with his fingers up again to his forehead, learning the planes of your face. He’s had you memorised visually, but it wouldn’t hurt to familiarise himself with the feeling of you. Banri stretches out his fingers before fully cupping your face with his palms, swallowing when you lean your head into one of them.

“Do you know,” Banri hesitates, “what you’re doing to me?”

His courage wanes, he wants to say more but it’s so difficult sorting out the emotions overflowing within. His head hurts a bit from figuring out what to focus on, the anxiety and panic or the joy and euphoria. The only constant right now was you.

One hand falls to your arm, slowly sliding up and down while leaving goosebumps in its wake. The other continues to rest on the side of your face, thumb inching closer and closer. As the pad brushes against the corner of your lip, your eyes open wide and gaze directly at the familiar pools of blue.

The first thought that flies through your mind is that he’s close enough now to kiss you. Everything about him, the air around them, feels warm and humming with an energy you’ve never felt from anyone before— other than Banri.

“This isn’t easy for me,” Banri lets out a breath, both of you doing your best to not disturb the feeling in the room. His hair falling loose but his eyes never leave yours for a second. “I’ve never… Look, I like being around you. You matter to me. A lot.”

You can’t help the smile that makes its way on your face, the utter adoration, and fondness and love you had for him escaping all at once. With what little space you had between, you pressed your forehead against his.

“You matter to me too. A lot.” You muttered, repeating his confession, closing your eyes again before ever so gently pushing your lips to his.

You’ve imagined how it would be like to kiss Banri before, rough and a little harsh, but as you felt his hand through the baby hairs at the bottom of your head you were more than content at his gentle kissing.

Banri continues kissing you slowly, unsure if the sun had already set, but all that mattered was this moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> been playing Sims 4 a lot again because quarantine, and then i got inspired to use it as a plot device for a banri x reader o o p s
> 
> also HAPPY BIRTHDAY TSUZURU I LOVE YOU i would've written another tsuzuru fic but like, my last fic was a tsuzuru fic and I have two other Tsuzuru work in progress fics so i need to give others love 
> 
> next is another college boy, but which one? hmm...


	9. kazunari | muse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which kazunari wants to paint his s/o reader  
> ⤷ gender-neutral reader  
> ⤷ not director reader  
> ⤷ SFW

When your phone vibrates the exact minute your class ends, you know the text can only be sent by him. As the people around you begin to step outside the lecture hall, you find time to read your boyfriend’s message before heading out as well.

  


With Kazunari being a year above you, in a different course more so, there were times during the week where the two of you could barely catch a glimpse of each other. Projects were beginning to pile up for both of you, and with his acting to consider you initially didn’t want to bother him, but…

Just as you picked up your bag, your phone lights up again.

 ** _Wah, where r u??? I mish u already beb_** 💓💕💞

Stifling a giggle, you send back a text before quickly shuffling out of the classroom.

Kazunari always made the effort to put time into your relationship and give you affection, regardless if it was eating together during mutual breaks in between classes or sending each other cute messages and memes on social media.

Of course as cute as his selfies were nothing could beat physically being beside him and hearing his voice in person, so who could blame you for picking up your pace and rushing to where you knew your boyfriend was.

He’s seated on a bench when you spot him, fiddling with his phone. Before you could call out to him whips his head to face you. Instantaneously his lips break into a smile and from the lift of your cheeks you know you’re the same.

“Heyho☆ You looking for someone?” Kazunari says as you approach him, a teasing grin settling on his face. “You look a little lost~”

“I’m here for Kazu, my boyfriend!” You reply, lifting your hand and placing it atop of his head. “He’s _this_ tall, and… oh! _Super_ handsome, too. Have you seen him?”

Holding back a laugh, his eyes dart from left to right before sighing. “Unfortunately, he’s nowhere to be found. Aw, but you look totes adorbs~♪ Should I steal you away from this Kazu guy? I’ll def sweep you off your feet☆”

Before you know it Kazunari pulls you into his arms, the spontaneity a surprising but warm feeling. You wrap your arms around him as well, smiling against his sweater as the two of you hug while swaying left and right.

“Alright, that’s enough, Casanova.” You say the moment the hug gets too tight, slowly escaping his embrace.

“I want more though~” He whines, reluctantly letting go of you. He didn’t actually look upset if the glimmer in his eyes was anything to go by. “Well, I needed your help with something anyway!”

Anticipation bubbles up within you, expecting a new piece he needed help with, or maybe something for you to critique. After all, your admiration for his work was one of the reasons the two of you had gotten so close in the first place.

“I’ll do my best, Kazu-senpai!” You beam at him, throwing in the honorific to potentially catch him off-guard. Needless to say, it worked splendidly.

“Senpai?! You haven’t called me that in forever!” Kazunari was buzzing with excitement, grabbing one of your hands to swing it around. “Ahhhh- it was so, _so_ cute every time you called me that! I was like, OMG—”

You roll your eyes. “I know, you’ve said that _how_ _many_ times?” Nevertheless, every time he mentioned it the more fond you grew of him.

“Kazuuu,” you squeeze his hand “come on, we have something to do, right?”

Not letting go of your hand for even a moment he leads you along the hallway, eventually stopping outside one of the classrooms.

“So, like, you can totally say no if you want but I’d be hella happy if you helped me out with this.”

You frown slightly, a little befuddled on what kind of request he’d be asking of you. “Kazunari, you don’t have to beat around the bush. I’ll understand.”

Nodding and looking more sure of himself, Kazunari continues. “I’d like to paint you.”

You tilt your head in confusion. “Don’t you already do that without asking me? I’ve seen your sketchbook, I’m totally okay with it.”

“This is different. I need to submit a painting of something _or someone_ that’s my muse, so I wanted you as my model,” he explains, silently watching your expression change as you grasp the whole situation.

Avoiding his gaze, you look away from Kazunari. “Muse? So- so that means inspiration, right?” You stammer slightly, imagining how frazzled you must look already. “Wait I’m- are you sure it should be me? I’m not really…” you trail off, unsure of what reason you were going to give at the end.

When he says your name you look back up at his face. “I’m being legit here, you inspire me more than you know. It won’t feel right to paint anything else when you were the first thing that popped into my mind.”

Your eyes widen at his serious declaration. It’s not everyday Kazunari gives you such a straightforward and earnest compliment to that degree. Despite your initial embarrassment, your heart swelled up with joy; watching his shoulder’s ease up made you realize that he was probably waiting for a reaction out of you. At this point, it was impossible for you to reject his request.

“If you’ll still have me, then you can paint me.”

Kazunari’s eyes light up again, expressive and sparkling, before opening the classroom door to lead you inside. “Thank you, and like obvi! Why wouldn’t I wanna show off my sunshine to the world! My baby! My go-“

You let out a huff of amusement as he continued to spurt out pet names for you. Looks like he was back to normal?

When he lets go of your hand you finally take the time to absorb the room. It was obvious it was an art-centric classroom, from the numerous easels, art supplies, and artsy clutter scattered around the room. You wouldn’t have noticed such a difference between this and the other “painter occupied” rooms if it wasn’t for the set-up right smack in the middle.

It made for a pretty picture- loads of white offset by its nature orientedness. A few potted plants (you weren’t sure if they were real or not) were strategically placed along the area. The white fabric was hung and draped atop what was probably a bunch of easels used as a base frame. Similar cloths were set on the floor, a pillow placed on top.

You have a good feeling, a hunch if you will, that you were meant to stay there; if that wasn’t enough proof, an easel with a blank canvas was positioned directly in front of the space.

“When’d you even get the time to set this up? Are we even allowed to be here?” You question, a little surprised how everything has already been prepared.

“Friends from the photography dept helped me out~ Plus I’m lowkey besties with the prof so it’s ayt as long as we clean up.” He replies, grabbing one of the spare fabrics on the table.

“Can you remove your jacket?” Kazunari steps closer to you; as soon as you unzip the garment and throw it aside he wraps the plain, white material around your shoulders like a makeshift shawl or blanket.

You know it’s for the portrait, but there was something domestic about the simple act that made your heart race. He stepped back, smiling at you and looking self-accomplished.

“Huhu I can’t- my baby’s so pretty? How is this possible? Like an angel, no, a deity!”

“Kazu-“

“My venus~ wahh, I need so many pics? Do I have enough space? Do I post on InstaBlam or-”

“Kazu!” You interrupt, your cheeks flaring up in embarrassment. It was literally a white drape! Still, it was always nice when he complimented you, no matter how extra he went about it, so you didn’t have the heart to complain— after a year, you knew he was always genuine with his praise to you.

“We should probably start with the painting, right? We don’t wanna stay too late.” Kazunari perks back up and you briefly watch him choose between paintbrushes before you sit down on the floor.

How do models figure this shit out? Where does your leg go? How do you angle your face? How much tilt was too much tilt? Even the way you sat down was suddenly making you conscious— should you sit cross-legged or on your heels? Legs stretched out or tucked in?

You fidget in place, picking at the stray threads of the cloth beneath you. Should you just let Kazunari do his magic and hope he somehow makes you look good? After watching him from the corner of your eye he drops his paintbrush back in the mug.

“Beb, the vibes are _off_. I was being legit when I said you looked good, but you look like you’re thinking too hard.”

“Sorry, I can’t figure out what pose works.”

He crouches down in front of you, quietly looking over your awkward form. His hands take action in moving your body, nudging the arm that laid limp on your lap to lay flat against the floor behind you. Then his palms are on your legs, positioning the left thigh atop the right so that your knees faced front and the soles of your feet faced the side.

‘ _Okay, don’t be weird about it_ ’ you tell yourself, despite hyper-focusing on the ghosts of Kazunari’s fingertips barely seeping through your jeans as they settle on your chin, gently moving your head to the side and tilting it downwards.

Kazunari narrows his eyes, simply staring at your face without a word being uttered. A part of you almost wants him to break into his trendy-speak again if only to give you time to shake off your sudden bashfulness.

“We Gucci! You still look distracted though… oh! Can you think about something that makes you happy?”

Maybe it was because he suggested it, or maybe it was because he’s your boyfriend— either way, the first thing that popped into your mind was Kazunari.

* * *

Settling into university was tough, but you had worked so hard to get accepted into Veludo Arts that you could look past the taxing work handed by the professors. Aside from the workload, you came to really enjoy studying here— you learned first hand how talented your peers were, and that motivated you to work harder.

During one of the campus’ exhibits your eyes were immediately drawn to the canvas with a Japanese painting style. Even from afar you could tell the artist was incredibly talented, but the closer you got the more you were able to see the tiny details and how purposeful every stroke was.

‘ _The devil truly is in the details_ ’ you thought, looking at the exhibit label card beside the painting.

“Miyoshi Kazunari, 2nd-year student…” you read out loud, wondering if he had more works you could look at around the school.

“I heard my name just now~♪ Could it be, I have an admirer?” You immediately turn around to face a guy with blond hair and green eyes, keeping steady eye contact with you as he grinned.

Cute as he was, you might have totally ignored him if you hadn’t absorbed what he said.

“Hello, you’re Miyoshi-senpai, then?” You ask, trying to hide your disbelief at how he just popped up out of nowhere. Had you been staring at the painting _that_ long that you lost awareness of your surroundings?

“The one and only~♪ You like the painting?”

Abandoning your bewilderment you immediately shifted into admiration mode. “Definitely! I thought the sparse use of colour was genius, particularly how certain parts of the painting got bolder colours than others. Not only that but the title! You think it’s literal at first, but it’s actually a double entendre! I also-“

Your rambling gets caught off by your new acquaintance chuckling, looking infinitely amused by you. You feel pinpricks on your cheeks, deliberating if you had gone too far with your praise or not.

“Kouhai, you’re so cute~♪ If you ever need help, just DM me, alrighty? I’ll always answer ya _piko_ ☆”

It had started out with you asking for his advice or to borrow materials, but somehow someway a couple of selfies and hundreds of DM stickers later the conversation shifted to topics unrelated to art.

You had eagerly begun looking forward to seeing the green circle beside his icon as he logged in to tell you about his day, whether it be something he did at Mankai or some crazy shenanigans with his friends.

Becoming close friends with Kazunari, to getting asked out by him, to dating him— you’d be lying if you said the past two years would be just as enjoyable if he wasn’t there to celebrate with you.

* * *

The sound of your name made you escape your daydream, being met with the sight of the blond in front of you.

“Were you calling me for long?” You ask, smiling as he pets you on the head.

“Nah, but aside from some deets the painting’s done now!” Even though the easel was turned to you, you still stand up to take a closer look.

Leave it up to Kazunari to make a human look so… pure? Angelic? How’d he even make you look so good? It was almost as if he had put a dreamy filter over you. As expected, even though he said there was still work to do, the tiniest of details were present— from the creases of the fabric hung behind you to the slight discolourations of the monstera plant beside you.

However, easily the most impressive thing about the whole portrait was the look on your face. The slope of your eyelashes as they shaded your eyes— averted with a faraway look to them, as though enchanted by something unseen to the viewer. The corners of your lips lifted your cheeks, a closed smile holding onto words unspoken.

_So that’s what you looked like in love._

“What were you thinking of here, my muse?” Kazunari breaks the silence, and when you turn to face him you notice he’s not looking at the painting. You don’t break the eye contact.

“Were you… musing about me?” He teases, though it’s a little lacking in spirit. You don’t fail to notice— neither the lower timbre of his voice nor the gentleness of his eyes escape you.

Even with all his eccentricities, you and Kazunari aren’t too dissimilar when it comes to love.

“Yeah, I was thinking about you.”

The look on his face was something you wish you could capture in a photo or painting yourself, a medley of unpreparedness, joy, and adoration. You can’t stop your small laughter when he literally clutches his chest.

“OMG my heart, I’m so? You’re so?” He takes hold of the cloth around your shoulders and pulls you closer until the only thing you can focus on is the brilliance of his green eyes. You could look only for a few seconds as he stretched his head forward and pressed his lips against yours.

The kiss was sweet and inviting, not unlike the first they shared months ago. Kazunari’s lips were warm and he tasted faintly of the candy he always liked to stock in his bag. After a moment, he brings both hands up to your cheekbones, cupping your face like he was savouring you.

Then he drops his chin, breaking off the kiss and pushing you away a fraction, so he could look into your eyes.

“Sorry,” he says with a small laugh, “Just can’t believe that expression was all for me, you know?”

You pout, poking his side. “And who else would I think about? I only have one boyfriend, Kazu.”

“ _Oh_? Does that boyfriend happen to be a good kisser?” Kazunari asks playfully, his eyes crinkling with mirth, “I bet I’d be a better kisser~”

“Is that so?” You reply with a raised eyebrow, slowly erasing the distance until you were but a breath apart from touching. “Would you like to prove it?”

The intimacy of the moment was both strange and wonderful. You tilt your chin slightly and he immediately took it as the cue to lean in and kiss you again, drawing your lower lip between his with a light suction. If the first was gentle if not a little energetic, this time he kissed with an unexpected passion and confidence.

It was clear that missing each other plus the accumulation of little moments this afternoon led to this moment.

Kazunari traces one hand over your cheek, down your shoulder, back up again. His fingers come to rest at the back of your neck, sending a slight shiver down your spine, his thumb playing idly along your jaw as he works his mouth against yours and in the back of your head you realise the fabric on your shoulders had slipped some seconds ago. Eventually, you pull yourself closer, until you were flush against him.

Kazunari releases your mouth and starts kissing down your jawline. He presses his upper body over yours as he settles in to tease and nip at your earlobe, murmuring your name, the sensation against your ear making your whole body tingle.

You could only whimper in response as he attacks the outer shell of your ear, beginning to get overwhelmed by his warmth and his smell and you burrowed against his sweater, trying to lose yourself in all of it. At this point, you were just trying to steal as much of Kazunari’s loving warmth as you could.

You tighten your grip on his clothes when he grazes his teeth against your neck; then his lips were on yours again and you readily opened up to him, swirling your tongue against his.

When the need for air came desperately, you took to a slower pace until eventually coming to a halt, loosening the grip you had on him. You don’t immediately open your eyes, collapsing against chest once more to catch your breath. You only look back up when Kazunari lets out a loud snort that turned into a fit of laughter.

“I forgot we were still on campus for a sec,” He says, gently squeezing your forearms. You step backward, making yourself look presentable, though it serves a bit of a task without a mirror to guide you.

“We should probably clean up and leave.”

Kazunari lets out a thoughtful hum, and you can already see the grin creeping upon his lips. “Yeah, we def should… unless?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you sm for 100+ kudos~
> 
> kazu speak is hard when you need to write it, but easy to use when ur just chatting with ppl istg


	10. tsuzuru | three words

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which tsuzuru hasn't said those three words yet  
> ⤷ gender-neutral reader  
> ⤷ college student reader  
> ⤷ SFW

You could say with utmost certainty that Minagi Tsuzuru was the perfect boyfriend. As a man he’s hard-working and capable of many things, as a friend he was considerate, kind, and protective; as a boyfriend, he managed to deliver all of those things and more.

Him being attractive didn’t hurt either.

A gentle squeeze on your left hand took you out of your thoughts, but you couldn’t be bothered to focus on your surroundings with Tsuzuru still beside you.

“We’re here already, huh,” you tried not to sound disappointed at the sight of the familiar dormitory, but you must have slipped up somewhere based on the way Tsuzuru looked at you.

“Pfft, we’ll see each other again on campus next week,” he laughed, turning to face you completely as his unoccupied hand found its way to yours.

“I’m sad our date ended so soon, though,” you replied, looking into his eyes as you swung your arms together, “I just wish we got to spend more time together. I really had fun today.”

His eyes softened, fingers locked more tightly with your own. “I enjoyed today, too.” Silence took over the conversation, and while it wasn’t uncomfortable per se it was clear to you something was missing. Filling in the awkward gap, you leaned in to peck him on the cheek.

That seemed to do the trick— no matter how many times you’ve kissed him the pinpricks of red still appear on his cheeks. You don’t bother stifling your laughter, slowly unclasping your hands as you step backward.

“Let me know when you get home, okay?” With only your fingertips left touching, you reluctantly let go, already upset at the loss of his warmth. “I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you too,” he said quietly, offering up one last smile as he watched you disappear into the building.

As soon as you entered your room you quickly threw yourself onto your bed, groaning in frustration as your face plants itself onto a pillow. Really, practically everything was perfect with Tsuzuru, but lately, you’ve found yourself wanting more.

From the texts exchanged on a daily basis, to the time spent going over his scripts together, to the deep conversations at night going on for hours— you weren’t so dense or insensitive to not realise that his actions reflected the same feelings you have for him.

Actions did speak louder than words,

but somehow, that wasn’t enough.

It slowly ate you up on the inside, from midday daydreams to late-night thoughts on your desire to have him say those three words. Were you making a big deal out of nothing? Was it simply too soon in your relationship? Was it selfish of you to feel so upset?

You flipped around, now lying on your back as you stared at the white nothingness of the ceiling. As the questions continued to float around you shut your eyes tight, willing them to leave your mind.

* * *

A buzzing sound coming from nearby rendered you awake, and with sleepy eyes, you gave your bed a pat-down to find the misplaced device. It didn’t take long, your hand coming in contact with a familiar shaky motion.

One look at the caller ID had you smiling instantly. Despite the emotional wreck, you were a while ago, talking with Tsuzuru made those doubts and insecurities vanish. Without a second to spare for hesitance you quickly answered the call.

“Good afternoon,” you greeted, a yawn soon following your words. “Sorry, were you trying to call for a while now?”

Tsuzuru audibly sighed, and for a moment you could almost imagine him rubbing his temples. “A few minutes. Also, it’s technically evening now, actually- did you fall asleep?”

You sat up, hand reached out to pull away your curtains. True to Tsuzuru’s word, the window framed what made for a beautiful painting— an ombre of crimson, orange, and gold as the sun hid from the moon once more.

“I guess I didn’t realise how exhausted I was until I got home,” you said with amusement, “have you seen the sunset today?”

He hummed, your ears picking up on the subaudible crinkling of a paper bag. “I had to run an errand, so I’m walking home just now.”

You continued watching the resplendent sky. It brought you comfort, knowing that he was watching the same sight as you were. Soaking in the peaceful glow, your previous worries began to wash away. You could always just…

“The sunset’s especially beautiful today,” you said, voice less raspy from your slumber but still soft-spoken. “It’d be nice to watch the sunset together sometime.”

“Okay… we’re doing that now, aren’t we?” He chuckled as soon as he heard you huff. You resisted the urge to retort, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t tease him back.

“The sunrise would be nice too… shouldn’t be that hard with how often you stay up, right?” Tsuzuru scoffed. “For me? Oh, sure… if you fall asleep before it happens don’t blame me for not waking you up, okay?”

You snorted, wondering if he’d be able to hear the grin on your face somehow.

The two of you entered quietude again, everything still save for the background noise from Tsuzuru’s side of the call. For being only two or three hours apart, the vibe was somewhat different to the same silence as before.

“Tsuzuru?” you waited for his response with bated breath, gathering up all the courage possibly contained in your body. It was a lot harder than you expected— the indecisiveness of how to go about saying it; the uncertainty of his response.

“Yeah? Is something wrong?” Your heart fluttered; he sounded a bit worried all of a sudden, even though nothing in your conversation could have possibly hinted at anything off.

“It’s nothing,” you trailed off for a moment, letting out a shaky breath.

To push through with it or not? If it was too soon, it would make things a bit awkward for a few days; if it wasn’t, then-

“Tsuzuru,” you interrupted whatever he was going to say, resolving your fears and doubts. “I love you.”

Tsuzuru’s breath hitched, yet he didn’t say anything. Seconds pass and you found yourself growing more and more anxious, until the line dropped.

_What the fuck?_

You dropped down on the bed again, unsure if you were more shocked or frustrated. You just told him you loved him for the first time and he _dips_? Sure, you understood the possibility of him not responding in kind, or telling you it was too soon— definitely not hanging up on you.

You probably should have said it in person because he wouldn’t be able to escape then.

Minutes pass of you trying to wrap your head around the whole situation, completely and utterly silent until you heard the rapid-fire rapping on your door. You sighed, dragging yourself up and preparing to berate whichever dorm mate of yours was making so much noise.

Instead, you were greeted by Tsuzuru, flushed to the roots of his hair and out of breath. Even though you were still frustrated with him for leaving the call with no explanation, you were still concerned by his sudden appearance.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, letting your annoyance s into your tone. “You can’t just hang up and then-“

“I’m sorry,” he panted out, hastily setting aside his things. “I just had to see you immediately.”

He whispered your name softly, present with more adoration and awe than you’ve ever heard your name pronounced before.

“I was nervous about saying anything. I thought it might have been too soon, I didn’t want to freak you out. Instead, I hurt you in the process.” He stepped inside your room hesitantly, not wanting to make you uncomfortable or angry. When you don’t push him away, he takes one of your hands, holding onto it lightly as though you were fragile.

“I love you,” Tsuzuru said, confidently as though he had never been more sure of something in his life. “I love you more than words could say.”

Your shoulders shook, body quivering slightly as you held back the overflow of emotions you felt. All the anger and insecurity and doubt trickled out of your system until only your affection for Tsuzuru remained.

“Could you say it again? I’d like to hear it in person this time.”

“I love you. I’m in love with you, Tsuzuru.”

Pulling you by the hand he wrapped his arms around you tightly, he replied, “I’m in love with you, too."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i can't believe i keep writing for tsuzuru omg- i love him though so i'm fine with it 
> 
> i noticed this was a lot shorter than i usually write :O
> 
> lowkey portrayed some of my personal emotions for A Clockwork Heart ranking (mostly frustration and "why did it take you so long to come home TT" and "oh my God you're finally home" and "WHY'D YOU CRASH DURING AN ENCORE")


	11. itaru | hidden side

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which itaru and reader are co-workers with a mutual understanding  
> ⤷ gender-neutral reader  
> ⤷ not director reader  
> ⤷ SFW

Normally he’d be able to withstand not opening his phone every few minutes— he’d always make sure to clear all his AP, LP, SP, BP, whatever P before heading to work. Stamina bonuses were never a problem too, either he’d head to the comfort room or log-in during lunch break.

However, events were simultaneously running right now and he’d be damned if he wasn’t gonna rank in the top 1%, no, 0.1%.

Itaru discreetly looked around the office, and as soon as the coast was clear he opened up his desk drawer. His phone was stored inside, his team of ~~expensive~~ waifus auto-battling against the enemies for this event.

They weren’t doing bad at all, but he trusted himself a little more than the AI.

As he went over the best skills to use on the final boss, he heard a knock against the divider separating his desk from his co-workers.

“Code red, Chigasaki-san.” You muttered, volume low enough so only he’d be able to hear you.

Yikes, a red so early in the day? His boss must want something done immediately.

He hastily shut the drawer, sighing in relief that the metal filing cabinet barely made any noise.

“Thank you,” he said gratefully as he watched his boss approach from the corner of his eye, already looking agitated with a word yet to be spoken.

“Chigasaki, I need you to work on a new project,” his boss drawled on with the details; Itaru’s ears somehow being able to pick up on the necessary information despite all the words blurring in his head. Something about a presentation being needed and closing a deal— he’ll just check his email for specifics.

He continued to nod, pretending to absorb everything when in reality he was just looking forward to finishing the battle and getting his rewards.

However, hearing your name halted his movements. As you peaked over from your desk, Itaru could tell even you looked a little caught off-guard at the sudden mention.

“Yes, sir?” you questioned, swiveling your chair to face the two men.

“Since you’ve dealt with GeneSys before, I’m assigning both you and Chigasaki as the heads,” he explained, “there shouldn’t be a problem with this arrangement, right?”

“No, sir,” you replied.

“Not at all. We’ll start on the project as soon as possible,” he sent off his boss with a polite smile as the both of you watched his back disappear.

The silence restored in the room, you let out a quiet laugh to break the tension. “Honestly, thank god I’m partnered with you,” you sighed in relief, before humming thoughtfully “although I might get some envious stares for a couple of days.”

He pursed his lips.

“I’m not sure I know what you mean,” he said, but by the twinkle in your eyes, he could tell you knew he wasn’t being truthful.

Not that he minded. It would be an understatement to say he was pleased you were the one assigned to help him; if he could set a favourite co-worker, it’d probably be you. Not only were you dependable with work, but you didn’t bother him needlessly either. Even so, the two of you weren’t exactly friends, at least not until a month ago.

“Thanks for saving me. If he found out I was using my phone…” he trailed off as you shook your head understandingly.

“It’s fine, Chigasaki-san. After all, you’ve saved me a bunch of times as well,” you reminded him, “so what were you doing this time?”

Oh crap, he probably should get back to the game. He shouldn’t keep his waifus waiting, right?

“Oh, just messaging my troupe mates. They wanted to know what time I’d be home for practice,” he lied, pulling the drawer open and quickly selecting the skills and moves to beat up the final boss.

After collecting his rewards, he saw the little red exclamation point by the bento box icon. Lunchtime stamina bonus time~

“I didn’t realise it was 12 already,” he mentioned off-handedly, missing the way you jolted up for a second before pulling open your file drawer as well.

“Should probably have lunch in a while,” you said, unknowingly opening the same game Itaru was playing. “Want to eat lunch together? I’ll go over my previous experience with GeneSys Tech Corp.”

“Sure. The faster we get this over with, the better.”

 _‘So I could get back to my games in peace,’_ the both of you thought.

* * *

Corporate slaves needed more rights. The project wasn’t _so_ difficult that he’d collapse in exhaustion, but he was definitely frustrated with all the demands that needed fulfilling.

Should he game to destress? Ah, but he once he starts he might not be able to stop-

Itaru’s phone screen lit up, and he would have thought it was a game notification if it wasn’t for the ringtone blaring. As soon as he saw your name, he wondered if you somehow picked up on the fact that he was planning on ~~slacking off~~ taking a break.

“Good evening,” you greeted him, voice calm and not at all angry— right, he can strike off the _‘my co-worker has a 6th sense?’_ theory. “Sorry to disturb you, just felt like checking in. How’s work going from your side?”

He looked at the graph currently shown on his desktop, already feeling a headache incoming. “Not too bad, could be better,” Itaru answered vaguely, not wanting to give you a bad impression.

He couldn’t figure out whether you believed him or not, the only tell being the hum you let out.

“Same boat, then. Seriously, for a company whose most relevant success is a video game in the 90s…”

Itaru immediately perked up, pressed at the mention of the game. “Right? Then again, what do you expect from them after that total disappointment of a sequel that-“ he suddenly stopped.

If he said any more he totally could’ve been in trouble just there.

“Oh, how’d you know about the video game? GeneSys rebranded themselves a couple years ago, so I didn’t think you’d know about it,” you questioned him, leaving Itaru to scramble for the best excuse he could think of.

Yeah, he’s not about to take the risk and assume you knew the game because you’ve played it before.

“Did some research on the company’s past endeavours,” he began, sounding as nonchalant as he possibly could, “I suppose I got a bit invested.”

That was one way to put it. He still remembered being upset as a teenager that the long-awaited sequel was a total cash-grab.

“Pfft,” you let out a small laugh, and for a moment Itaru felt frantic— did you somehow figure him out? He wouldn’t put it past the you who caught him using his phone, when no one else had, a month ago.

“This oddly passionate side to the princely Chigasaki Itaru-san is really nice.”

He was eternally grateful to whatever higher being (beings?) there was that this conversation was taking place over the phone. Despite the air conditioning, his face began to warm like his phone would overheat after playing for too long.

Seriously, all you said was that side of him was nice— _not that you knew the full extent_ — so why did he feel like a cliche otome MC? Wasn’t he past the stage of getting flustered over stuff like this?

“Chigasaki-san, are you still there?” you called out, and Itaru calmed himself down to the best of his abilities before answering.

“Yeah, sorry. Connection got cut for a bit. You were saying?”

If a smile had a sound, he was definitely hearing it right now. “Oh nothing~ I was just thinking that your fans would be _so_ jealous if I told them I got to see _a hidden side_ of their prince just now,” you teased.

Probably not. It’s not exactly the definition of charming, not even urban dictionary worthy, but he’ll indulge you.

He didn’t even bother covering up the huff that escaped him. “And who knew my dependable and quiet project partner was so chatty? _Keeping a guy up this late_ and distracting him from work?”

It was your turn to be silent, and before he could apologise you beat him to it.

“I didn’t realise it was so late! Sorry, I wanted to chat away the stress,” you explained, “should probably stop disturbing you, right?”

He looked at the time. He’s not sure _what_ he’s doing exactly, but he doesn’t need to go in-game until the reset at midnight— might as well refill his irl stamina too, right? Well, if he could be the bento box that helped you refill your energy, why not?

… Yeah, that sounded better in his head.

“I mean, we could probably talk about work on call… _or_ ,” he paused for dramatic effect, “we _could_ just talk.”

Itaru’s equally as relieved as you when you breathe a sigh of relief. Oh thank god, he didn’t want to _actually_ talk about work. It was only the first day of the project, both of you had time to kill. Probably.

“Why do I have a feeling you’re gonna end up sniffing out my secrets?”

He snickered at your suggestion. “Then I’m not the co-worker you should be worried about then,” before you could question who he possibly meant, he continued, “though since you got to see a quote, _hidden side of me_ , unquote, shouldn’t I know more about you?”

“Hmmm? Like what?” you asked.

“Like what you even do on your phone anyway? You’re on your phone just as much as me,” as he uttered those words you were voiceless for a split second, not unlike the momentary silence committed by Itaru minutes ago.

You tittered, your awkwardness not going unnoticed. “Mostly reading e-books, nothing too special.”

 _Okay_ , but the way you made it sound gave off the impression of it being fan fiction or something. Not that he’d judge, just a little surprising for you he guessed.

“Oh? What’s it about?”

His suspicion died down quickly enough as soon as you went off about the plot and characters of the story you were reading. He made a noise every now and then to let you know he was still listening, moving to his bed as he slipped on his headphones.

As you ranted about some complicated love triangle he figured would be popular in TV dramas and reverse harem routes, the more he found it undeniable that he enjoyed seeing this side of you, too.

He felt the tension of the workday slip off his system, your voice washing it away. Who knows? Maybe you’d consider a career in streaming or ASMR or something.

A couple of minutes pass by, and Itaru’s wordless responses died down after a while.

“Chigasaki-san?” you asked gently, not wanting to disrupt him should your suspicions be correct. When he didn’t respond, you smiled to yourself. Well, midnight just struck after all.

“Good night, sweet dreams,” you whispered before ending the call.

* * *

Imagine finding out from a 17-year old brat that his ranking dipped because he fell asleep ~~listening to his co-worker’s voice~~ while waiting for the reset. He was a little upset at having to spend diamonds just to climb back up the leaderboard, but at least he’s in the top 0.1% again. It was nothing a bunch of grinding couldn’t fix.

What he _was_ mortified about, however, was falling asleep in call. He was the one who suggested staying in the call in the first place, yet he dozed off on you. You didn’t send him an angry text or anything, but he was still prepared to press an f in the chat for himself.

Itaru found that you were already sat at your desk by the time he arrived, prodding at the phone inside your drawer. While it was mostly hidden, if he looked close enough he’d probably be able to see what you were doing.

… Not that he was going to, of course. You were mutuals in this we-secretly-use-our-phones-at-work tendency, he wasn’t going to betray you now! Still, he was a little curious. A peek over the shoulder wouldn’t hurt, right?

“Chigasaki-san, good morning! You looked like you rested well~”

Mission failed. We’ll get ‘em next time.

“Aha, my apologies. I suppose I was more tired than usual,” he paused, feeling something off— by the way you narrowed your eyes slightly at something behind him he could tell people were probably eavesdropping.

“Don’t worry! It was getting too late to _discuss the upcoming project anyway_ ,” you replied, putting emphasis to deter any rumours. Though you weren’t shouting by any means, the sudden volume definitely got you the response you wanted by the upwards pull of your lips. “We can continue working on it now that you’re here.”

As he sat down, turning his chair to face you, Itaru was unable to mask the small grin he sported on his face. “Very cool of you. So you have this side to you as well?”

“I’ve always wanted to try out a scene like that! Though I always imagined myself more on the MC’s side than the ML’s.”

“Hm? MC? ML?” he asked, feigning ignorance to the terms used. Not that those terms were limited to use in games, but still it was a teensy bit suspicious.

“Oh? Uh, MC for main character and ML for male lead,” you explained to him, not knowing that he already knew what they stood for. “Reviews for novels use those terms a lot, so I guess I picked up on them.”

… damn you right, though.

“Didn’t peg you for an office romance lover,” Itaru said, watching you shrug your shoulders.

“What can I say? I’m a versatile person with _many_ interests~” you grinned, the sudden flash of your teeth a little blinding.

Unexpectedly all it took was one late-night phone call for you to be more comfortable around him; he finds himself feeling much of the same. Still, weren’t you getting a little bolder with your vague responses?

Well, if his dating simulators taught him anything, it was clear that you were begging for a response. For an unathletic man, his heart rate increased steadily like a man on a morning jog— the anticipation similar to what he felt when a game continued to throw him pleasant surprises.

“Really? What else are you interested in, then?” he asked, keeping his voice low so that only the two of you could hear each other. On the outside, the two of you probably (hopefully) looked like you were discussing work; at worst, conspiring a business scheme together— the glint in both of your eyes said otherwise.

“Wouldn’t you like to find out?” you laughed quietly, almost tricking Itaru into believing you wouldn’t say any more. “For starters, I’m interested in you,”

He’s, well, more than a little dumbfounded. Shellshocked might be the appropriate word for it. Seriously, who told you it was okay to be so direct? Illegal, absolutely illegal. Someone arrest you already.

Still, his face is as calm and relaxed as ever; you wouldn’t have noticed anything was wrong if not for the colour beginning to dust his cheeks.

“What specifically about me?” He could be digging himself a deeper hole, but all the same, he _could_ use this to turn things around.

You rolled your eyes at him, as though the answer was obvious. “Everything, pretty much— though especially your, let’s call it the non-princely persona. I’m onto you, Chigasaki-san~”

He resisted the urge to laugh, pushing down the bubbling feelings of excitement that threatened to leave him.

“Not if I expose you first, sweetheart~” he threatened jokingly.

Thus began a game that would end sooner than both of you expected.

* * *

“Chigasaki-san, is it alright if we end our planning session early today?” you asked him, picking up your mug and placing it between your lips. He found himself mirroring you, drinking his coffee as well before responding.

“Sure. You have something you need to do?” He asked curiously, the dip in his smile showing the slightest disappointment on his features.

Work was still stressful as always but your presence, especially over the past week, had made things bearable if not enjoyable at points.

“Yeah. I have to pick up something from a store and I don’t wanna rush before closing time,” you explained, setting the now-empty ceramic down. “Thank you for the drink, Chigasaki-san. It’s easier to work with no one to bother us, you know?”

“Don’t mention it. You treated me yesterday, so it’s my turn now,” he waved off, shutting his laptop to begin packing up his things. “Need me to drive you to… wherever?”

The two of you exited the coffee shop, the cool breeze hitting your faces as the two of you descended the stairs. As you turned to greet him farewell he fought to keep his hand still as he looked at your wind-blown hair, slightly unruly but endearing at the same time.

“If I didn’t know you better I’d say you just wanted to be around me a little longer,” a soft, airy laugh escaping your throat. A smile touched the corners of his mouth and played in the laugh lines beside his eyes.

“Who’s to say you’re wrong, though?” he watched the red creep from your cheeks to your neck, half reveling in his success and half wondering if it went any further. He’s only a little dismayed that you hastily wished him goodbye and ran off to who knows where, but there was always tomorrow.

* * *

By the time you enter the game shop you’ve calmed down, for the most part, hair still a little disheveled but otherwise alright. Did playing around and teasing him finally come to bite you in the ass?

Ugh, that felt like a moment in otome games where the MC decides to tease the ML and the comeback has them all flustered and they run away.

Okay, that’s exactly what happened.

Seriously, you were an adult, what were you doing acting like a teenager? Did the dating simulators infect your brain or something?

You browsed through the new figurines to distract yourself, waiting for the inventory manager to retrieve the game you pre-ordered a while back. Once you and ~~Itaru~~ Chigasaki finished this deal with GeneSys you were going to immediately put in all your free hours into playing the game.

From the corner of your eye, you could see a familiar character, his figurine hidden a couple rows back.

“Damn, haven’t seen you in a while,” you muttered to yourself, grabbing the figurine. Shitty sequels aside, the OG game was totally fun. Maybe it was due for a replay of the game? You could probably dig up the cartridge somewhere in your room.

Distracted by your nostalgia, you wouldn’t have noticed him if it wasn’t for the narrow space causing you two to bump into each other.

“Ah, sorry…” you apologized for blocking the way, about to put back the figurine and move on until you heard your name.

Shit, you knew that voice all too well.

“Chigasaki-san?!” you exclaimed, taking in his widened eyes and knowing your expression wasn’t too far off from his own.

Once the initial wore off, rationality and relief took place. To think you were hiding the extent of your, uh, gaming obsession when in reality he wasn’t too far off, as far as you could tell by the sleek, limited-edition controller he was holding.

Yeah, he might even be worse than you.

“When I implied wanting to spend more time with you, I didn’t think it’d be like this,” he said, a good-natured laugh leaving him. Despite your original embarrassment, you followed suit soon enough.

“I guess we both ended up seeing each other’s secret pastimes at the same time, huh?” you replied, shaking your head at the ridiculousness of it all.

“I was right though,” you began, watching Itaru’s eyebrow quirk upwards.

“Right about what?”

“Liking this hidden side of you,” you smiled in delight as he looked at you uncontrollably fond, finally getting to fix your hair with his free hand.

He’ll ask you out properly some other time, but for now…

“Just the hidden side of me?” he teased, his hand sliding from the top of your head to poke your cheek. “Meanwhile here I am, liking all of you.”

You huffed, rolling your eyes in faux exasperation. “I like all of you too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MY DUMB ASS FORGOT TO PUT ENDING CHAPTER NOTES OOPS AND THE FORMATTING GOT RUINED THE FIRST TIME SO IM EDITING THIS AGAIN TT
> 
> a lot of this was based off of irl experiences with using my phone and dumb voice calls so this was a little bit self-indulgent, ahaha~


	12. juza | scouting dilemma

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which reader keeps trying to scout, but their best boy just won’t come home! juza doesn’t get it exactly, but he’s there to comfort you~  
> ⤷ gender-neutral reader  
> ⤷ not director reader  
> ⤷ SFW  
> ⤷ year 2 ages

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> literally inspired by juza and the great gem glitch of 2020- if you know, you know ;) dedicating this to everyone who wanted juza to come home but he said no summer outfit rights

This was the moment you’ve been waiting for. You managed to save up a massive amount of gems, waiting to be spent on a banner with your best boy in it. For months, your fingers itched to pull but you were loyal (with a few caving exceptions) to the character who got you into the game in the first place.

When the developers finally announced a banner with him in it, an SSR of best boy in a summer outfit no less, it was as if fate decided to tell you now was the moment to ~~splurge~~ strike.

9:58 pm.

Staring at your phone screen, you made sure everything was prepared before you could summon. You decided to do your first pull at 10 pm (his favourite number was 10), and surrounded your phone with a summon circle made entirely out of candies still in their wrappers.

9:59 pm.

You sent your prayers to the gacha gods, counting down the seconds until the clock struck-

10:00 pm.

With a shriek, you nearly ruined your summon circle formation of sweets as you scrambled to your phone, clicking the bright, shiny button that had tempted you endlessly.

“Yes, I’m sure I want to spend! Come home, come home, come home…” you chanted, unable to decide whether you should close your eyes until the final results or keep them wide open.

Choosing the latter, you gritted your teeth at the sequence of cards arriving.

R, Event R, R, R, Dupe SR, R, R, R, R, Event SR.

Suppressing the scream that wanted to escape your throat, you tried to laugh it off. At least you got two of the event cards…? Maybe it would have been better to wait until 10:10 pm?

An SNS notification popped up at the top of your screen, and from the little summary, you could tell you were gonna get upset at the contents. Checking the chat, your mutual quickly followed up her message with a screencap of your best boy. Coming home to her.

You quickly sent your response before promptly returning to the game, **_‘asdfghjkl im happy for u but like also muting u rn :’ < brb soon hopefully yeet need to retrieve my boi from the game’s clutches cya’_**

Despite your initial optimism, as the pulls kept going, the lower your gem count, the worse your mood became.

Should… should you stop right now? Banner really said no rights to best boy, huh? Sure you were able to fully merge a bunch of SRs and even the event R and SR cards, but not once did he come home? Even his sworn rival’s initial SSR came home if only to spite you or him or both.

Mentally exhausted, you decided to sleep. Maybe your luck would be better tomorrow?

* * *

When you walked into the room with a frown visible on your face, Juza immediately knew something was wrong.

From even before he got together with you, he was always sensitive to the different expressions you made, and by association your emotions— to the little smile on your face as you ate desserts together or the eyebrow furrow-pout combo you did when the professor said something you didn’t agree with. He’d never say how fun it was, seeing the different faces you’d make.

However, while those were cute, this just made him worry.

He’d really rather not fight anyone, but if he has to beat up someone…

Juza found himself distracted during class, unable to stop himself from constantly looking at you every few minutes. With a faint peach staining his cheeks, he slipped his hand underneath the desk to grasp your own.

“… you okay?” he said, voice low and quiet as to not catch anyone else’s attention. The look on your face turns a little softer, even throwing him a quick smile but he knows you well enough to spot the traces of sadness still present.

You don’t reply, squeezing his hand back as you finally tried to pay attention to the professor.

He sighed, slowly releasing your hand from beneath the table. He’ll find a way to make you feel better later, but for now, he had to take notes— for the both of you, it looked.

* * *

It’s not every day that Juza does most of the talking, but that just so happened to be the case today. He’s getting restless, stuck between actively wanting to help you out with whatever you needed or just sticking by you and letting you overcome whatever’s troubling you on your own.

You’ll talk when you want to, he knew that, but even still he wanted to be more useful to you. Do you want him to just keep talking to help you take your mind off things? Do you want to rant to him so he can listen? Do you want him to get you something? He’s not the best at giving advice, but if you needed it he’d do his best.

He doesn’t know what to do. You’re responding to him, but your mind is all the way elsewhere.

The next thing he knew, he’s getting a spoonful of his frozen dessert and pressing it against your lips.

You get startled from your thoughts when a sudden icy temperature meets your mouth. You opened your mouth, cringing slightly at the cool before finally enjoying the shaved ice dessert.

While it wasn’t uncommon for Juza to let you taste the food he ate and vice versa, he was usually more reserved, too shy to feed you in public.

 _‘He must have been worried,’_ you thought to yourself if he had to do that just to catch your attention. You immediately shifted your thoughts from the game to Juza, already about to apologise for troubling him before he interrupted you.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, and even though he had a scowl on his face, he looked at you with tight and worried eyes.

He knew you played games on your phone, but it was still a bit embarrassing to admit that you were upset for such a long duration because of your best boy not coming home. However, Juza deserved to know, so you pushed away your hesitance before explaining the whole fiasco to him.

Juza doesn’t get it entirely. He’s bordering between relief and confusion— on one hand, at least no one wanted to hurt you or fight you or anything; on the other hand, a 2D guy got you upset?

The concept isn’t completely foreign to him, what with Itaru-san and even Settsu constantly gaming, but usually it was his roommate being irritating and gloating while the salaryman got frustrated, eventually passing his phone to Sakuya.

He’s honestly shell-shocked that you’re upset, so even though he doesn’t understand why it’s such a big deal he’ll do what he can to make you feel better. He’s not the best at comforting people, he can never find the right words… but he’s good at listening.

He placed his hand on top of yours, grateful you don’t point it out verbally or he might actually combust. He can only hope the two of you are seated secluded enough that no one comes by.

Something’s starting to bother him though. The more he listens to you, the more he’s conflicted— if you’re dedicating that much of your… gems (?) to this guy he gets why you’re upset. Another part of him wonders what’s so great about this specific guy.

He’s not upset nor is he jealous, he’s just… figuring out what specific traits you like in this guy. For future reference. Who knew, maybe he’d get to play a role similar to the character you like so much?

“Why do you like him so much, anyway?” He asked, staring intently at you.

Your attitude quickly changed from being upset to being excited to talk about your favourite character.

“He’s just so kind and thoughtful! A total gap moe, you wouldn’t expect him to be so family-oriented because of his appearance but he totally is!” you began, barely catching a break to breathe before continuing on, “plus he didn’t start off as the strongest? But he’s constantly trying his best you just want to root for him and care for him?”

Unexpectedly, Juza finds himself a little flustered, though he’s unsure of why when you’re only describing a character. Perhaps it was the look on your face while you talked?

“Plus, he looks a lot like you! Obviously, I need him to come home, right?” you exclaimed, hitting him straight in the heart with your crinkled eyes and a beautiful smile.

The hand that was comforting you a while ago and gently rubbing patterns onto your skin stilled. You noticed right away, hoping you didn’t say anything too weird during your rant.

“Juza?”

He’s silent for a while, unsure of what to do and ultimately deciding to say the first thing that popped up in his head.

“… then why’d you need him to come home if I’m already-“

When he heard you squeal he stopped himself from continuing whatever he was going to say. Did you hear him? Dumb question, of course, you did!

You covered your face with your hands, unsuccessfully hiding the strawberry red colouring your face, and screamed internally. You can’t see how Juza is reacting but you _just_ heard a bang on the table?

‘ _Juza? Who told you to- istg I’ll have you arrested for-_ ‘

After a few moments, you’re the one who ultimately breaks the silence, knowing neither of you had enough will to point out the warm flecks that still remained on both of your faces.

“We should get going. Our class is all the way in another building,” you said, slowly standing up from your seat.

“… ‘kay.”

You’re not holding hands while walking, but if he noticed the frequency of your hand grazing his he doesn’t let you know.

Reaching the midpoint between your classroom and his, you turn to face him before splitting off in the hallway. You look to see if the coast was clear, and to Juza’s surprise, you enveloped him into a warm embrace, quick but heartfelt. Neither of you saw each other’s expressions, but Juza wondered if your heart raced just as fast as his did.

“Thank you for making me feel better… I love you,” you whisper the last part, before untangling yourself from him and speed walking away to your classroom. You miss the way Juza looks back at you, body frozen but face a mixture of shock and longing and love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> can't wait for the tasuku and omi SSR AND SR respectively from upcoming event... thirst must be quenched... this was on the shorter side of my fics + seriously written crack lmao, sorry fam I'll make it up next time!!! TT


	13. tenma | summer date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which reader and tenma have a date in the summer  
> ⤷ gender-neutral reader  
> ⤷ not director reader  
> ⤷ SFW

“Are you sure it’s okay with your parents if I come over tonight?” Tenma asked, and as much as he tried to mask it you knew he still had his worries.

“Pfft, at this point I think my mom likes you more than she likes me,” you joked, “besides, it’s not like we’re gonna _do_ anything.”

You laughed as Tenma sputtered; even though you were talking through the phone you could envision the traitorous rose flush blooming on his cheeks, his face turned away in a vain attempt to avoid your gaze.

“ _Hah_? What are you even saying? You’re the one who's being weird!”

“Didn’t even say you were being weird in the first place, but go off I guess.” Other than an exasperated sigh, there was a momentary silence in the call.

“You sure you’ll be able to make it? If filming ends late we can always resched-“

“No need. I promised I could make it, right?” He interrupted with a huff, his tone eventually transitioning to something a little softer but still sure of himself. “I already cancelled our date last time. I’m not doing that to you again.”

You were unable to hold back the giggle bubbling up within you, being pushed outwards by the slight jump your heart did. For all of his oddly cute quirks, you sometimes forgot how cool Tenma could be.

“Tenma… my heart totally skipped a beat just now,” you teased, knowing fairly well he’d either tell you off or pretend to be nonchalant to hide his embarrassment.

“Of-of course it did! Are you only realising my charm now?”

You continued to talk a little longer, half indulging him and half teasing him. He would have to leave the call soon at the signal of his manager, so who could blame you for relishing even the shortest of moments together?

You knew beforehand that getting into a relationship with Sumeragi Tenma wouldn’t be the easiest thing. His celebrity status meant having to hide your relationship and a lack of time spent together.

The former wasn’t that hard to deal with.

Spending time with Tenma probably allowed you to pick up some of his acting skills, as it became easier and easier to dodge inquiries from your friends and his fans about your close relationship; it also helped that Juza and Taichi were often there to cover up for the two of you, both of them sworn to secrecy.

You knew the importance of Tenma’s image, so if he was with other celebrities in dramas or had to hide his face when he was with you, you understood that he was only looking out for the two of you and the peacefulness of your relationship.

Even so, it was hard not to get lonely sometimes.

Juggling being a popular actor and being a high-school student barely gave him any free time, and by extension, time to go on dates with you. Recently, with his practices and filming ending late in the day, the two of you only had the few hours of the evening to spend time together until one of you eventually had to retire in exhaustion.

Still, as nice as the songs sung together were during karaoke night and the dinners together in and out of his dorm, you wished you could take the time to have both of you relax, the summer breeze caressing your skin as you both relaxed and the week’s stresses flew away with the wind.

“I’m here at the shoot location. I have to go now,” Tenma said, “you don’t need me to bring anything later? I can ask someone to buy stuff.”

“I’ve got this, don’t worry. Do your best today!”

As soon as the line went dead, you sprung into action. Operation: _Relaxing Summer Date Night with Tenma_ was a go!

* * *

“Maybe I should check the set-up again and see if I missed anything,” you muttered, glancing at the glass sliding door where you could see your backyard outside.

When your doorbell rang, you knew it was already too late for that.

“It looks great, kid. This Sumeragi boy is lucky you’re putting that much effort for him,” your dad said, ruffling the hair you already tried to make presentable an hour ago. “I didn’t get to meet him last time he was here. Should I pretend to be a strict and serious dad?”

“Dad, don’t scare him!” you exclaimed. Tenma was a talented actor, but _very_ gullible. If your father didn’t admit he was joking right away, who knew how long Tenma would go along with his act?

“I’m joking~ I’ll greet him normally, just watch.”

You watched your boyfriend greet your parents respectfully at the doorway, his face shifting from slightly nervous to a more relaxed one as your father said something to him that you couldn’t hear.

When he finally enters the house you lock eyes with him, resisting the urge to hug him with others’ eyes on the two of you. You didn’t want Tenma to combust so quickly into the night.

“Alright, just call us if you need anything. Have fun, don’t stay up _too_ late!” at the cue, you asked Tenma to follow you outside.

* * *

Tonight wasn’t the first time Tenma’s been to your house. Still, even with your dad telling him you worked hard on making tonight go perfectly, he hadn’t expected _this_.

Fairy lights hung from the tree branches, helping the stars of the night sky illuminate your backyard. A white drop cloth was hung and clipped on a string rope in between two trees, some rocks weighing it down in case of a heavy breeze.

A few decorative rugs, throw pillows, and blankets were placed purposefully on the grass— the combination tasteful but cozy. On the small side table, several food and drinks were stacked for the two of you, from a box of pizza to popcorn and candy to soda.

Tenma was glad for the minimal lighting, it was making it much easier for him to hide his flushed face and give him time to still his beating heart.

“This is…” he trailed off, unable to find any semblance of coherence in his thoughts.

“An outdoor movie theatre,” you supplied helpfully. “It was a bit last minute so the projector and sound system might not be the most high-qual, but I think I did well for a DIY!”

Well? Just well? Seriously, to think you’d even put in the effort to do all this for him, even though he was the reason the two of you barely went on normal dates.

Since the start of your relationship, he’d done his best to pace himself with you, to be the one to make the big surprises and heartwarming gestures, but somehow you were always one step ahead that he didn’t know what to do with himself.

Realising you were waiting for a response, he let out a small cough, forcing out a line that was so much easier to say in a drama. “Don’t sell yourself short, it looks really nice.”

As you beamed at him, Tenma resisted the urge to crumble into dust and settle onto the ground beneath him. Shouldn’t he be used to the sight of that by now? Does he need to practice looking at a picture of you smiling or something?

“Ahh, that’s good. I was worried it’d look too messy,” you said, him following suit as you plopped yourself atop a pillow. “Are you up for Aladdin first? It reminded me of you.”

“Because of _Water Me_?” Tenma asked, grabbing the soda bottle that you offered him. You hummed thoughtfully as he twisted the cap open, before finally replying.

“Because the camels there looked like you— Tenma don’t drop the drink! I’m joking!” you said, nearly shouting as his grip loosened. “Obviously because of the play.”

“You should really leave the comedy to me,” he turned away from you, hiding a small pout. “Seriously, _why a camel?_ ”

His body stiffened as you inched closer to him, hugging his arm loosely and trying to make eye contact with him. He wasn’t gonna look at you, no, no—

“Tenma,” you said in a sing-song voice, a syrupy sweet tone making its way to his ears.

He looked, and he immediately regretted it because he was, once again, spiralling down. Don’t think about how beautiful you are, the two of you haven’t even watched a single movie yet.

“Should… shouldn’t you turn the movie on now?” he said, barely giving him the time to miss your warmth as you were back beside him in minutes.

The movie was great, really. He enjoyed the songs, and he managed to tolerate the brief look you gave him whenever a camel was up on screen. Tonight, however, was one of those few moments where he could be honest— at least to himself— that you were a lot more interesting to watch.

It’s not _just_ because he hasn’t seen you in a while, although that definitely contributed, it’s just that your reactions were so… endearing? Heart-clutch worthy?

“Did you see that? That was so, _ahhhh_ , right?” you asked him, pointing at the screen.

“Mhm,” Tenma replied, unsure if you were referring to the magic carpet or the song or _what_. Even with his short response, you rewarded him with a small grin before dragging your eyes back to the scene in front of you.

You were adorable whenever you acted like this, you and your honest and unabashed enthusiasm. It was something he still struggled with every so often, so watching the way your eyes lit up always lit a fire in him as well.

As the next movie played, the more used he got to your proximity. Sometime in between the opening credits of Sleeping Beauty, the two of you had gone from sitting to lying on the bundles of cloth beneath you, a position much more comfortable and _close_.

At this point he’s barely paying attention, a little lost in his thoughts about tonight.

“Why did you decide on a movie night?” he asked, absentmindedly watching the main character dance with the prince.

“I figured you’d be tired from your busy schedule,” you paused to yawn, “plus, I thought it’d be nice to just… relax, you know?”

When you stared at him, he tried to give himself the courage to stare back instead of looking away immediately.

“You’re the one who sounds sleepy,” Tenma said, but not denying that he _was_ tired. That this really helped him, your presence, and the plan you had for your date ultimately relaxing him.

“Did I do okay, though?”

He almost scoffed, only softening up as soon as he noticed it was a serious question. “You did great, thank you for doing this,” he murmured. That simple admission was enough for you, you returning to the movie and him wondering if you could feel his eyes on you instead.

It turned out the name of the movie was rather telling.

It was around two-thirds through the movie when you just fell asleep, then the cuddling started. He doesn’t even dare move at all. There’s nothing he can really do at this point, not that he minds your weight on his, even if his arm is a little dead.

The credits roll and you’re still fast asleep. Not wanting to wake you, he carefully moved to lay a blanket on top of the both of you. This might not be the most optimal way to sleep, his back might hurt tomorrow and he was still in his jeans, but as he watched you slumber he figured it was worth it.

“Good night,” he whispered, kissing the top of your head, his only audience the trees you two were nestled under and the night sky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Based on a request about TenTen and reader on a "summer date". I debated what kind of “summer date” to do, until I remembered something I was supposed to do with some friends + one of Tenma’s lines about being tired. I feel like I made the tsun a bit mild, haha, but I hope this turned out decent!


	14. azuma | overseas trip

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which reader and azuma have fun in their hotel room :O  
> ⤷ gender-neutral reader, but w/ cis female body parts  
> ⤷ not director reader  
> ⤷ NSFW

“This is a little nostalgic, isn’t it?” Azuma said offhandedly, his hand coming to rest gently on your wrist. With a feather-like touch, his thumb barely brushing across your pulse. After a few seconds, you closed your fingers slightly around the length of his.

“To think we’re back years later in the place we first met,” you laughed quietly, your boyfriend following suit as the two of you enjoyed the walk back to the hotel room.

The two of you had been to this country before, albeit flying in separately.

It was a city of subdued colours but bustling theatricality, traditional buildings with tall chimneys made out of brick and spires of dark stone setting the main hub apart from the windswept, grassy hills and mountains compromising the landscape.

It was hard not to love the historic core of the capital, opulent with ethereal sites— its castles and churches and gardens putting an almost dreamy, magical filter in the world of reality.

“I remember it pretty clearly,” Azuma said, momentarily looking away from the row of buildings you were passing through, “the day we met,” he continued.

“We met in a garden near here, didn’t we?”

“Mhmm,” he hummed in affirmation, “would you like to go visit? It can be our little detour before heading back to the hotel.”

You smiled gently, giving him a small squeeze on the palm, “I’d like that.”

It was springtime, too, when you first saw Azuma. He stood there in the middle of the flourishing tulips, narcissus, and lupines; despite being surrounded by exquisite horticultural creations, you couldn’t keep your eyes off of the long-haired man.

“It still looks the same,” you said, taking in the sight of flowerbeds and groves being illuminated by the street lamps, giving the garden an almost mystical, fairylike glow.

Or perhaps, it was the memories seeping in that gave it that effect.

“Meanwhile, you’ve gotten more beautiful,” Azuma replied, a chuckle leaving his system. “I still remember how adorable you were, looking all lost and confused in a sea of flowers. Your dishevelled hair was cute, too.”

You nearly sputtered, unsure whether to call him out for his flattery or his teasing first.

“That’s not fair! Here I am, remembering how dazzling and graceful you were, meanwhile, you’re telling me I looked…” you trailed off, quickly changing the topic. “Besides, how do you even remember that?”

“Fufu, because it has to do with you, obviously,” he teased, “I even remember the leaves stuck on your sweater. I was almost afraid there’d be bugs, but you looked so helpless I just had to step in.”

“Azuma!”

You half-heartedly hid from his gaze, his body beginning to shake with mirth the more embarrassed you appeared.

“You make it sound like I got into a mess on purpose,” you muttered, pout already present on your features. “Is it my fault the wind hated me and smacked me in the face?”

“Well, someone needs to be at fault,” he began, “but I can’t blame the wind that brought me to you in the end.”

Honestly, where was he getting these lines? If he went on for any longer, you probably would have been set ablaze, and even in the dark of the night, you knew Azuma would be able to see it somehow.

“Really! Don’t tease me so much, we’re still outside!”

“Nn? Then it’s fine if we’re in the hotel room?”

You knew he was toying with you by the way the corner of his mouth quirked up, eyes steadily gauging your reactions. At this point you weren’t sure what else he was expecting, your widened eyes and the heat creeping up your neck already a set standard for whenever Azuma said something with… implications.

“Fufu. Ah, it’s getting darker. We should really be heading back now.”

Even as the two of you left the garden, you couldn’t shake off the flustered feeling that stuck with you. It wasn’t as if you and Azuma had never done anything, far from that, but perhaps the mood of tonight— being in the country where you two first met, further amplified your feelings and restlessness.

Still, you two had a tiring day sightseeing, and another long day ahead of the both of you tomorrow, so it was probably unlikely anything would happen.

* * *

You immediately changed into comfortable sleepwear the moment you entered the hotel room, your boyfriend chuckling as you sprawled onto your shared bed. As nice as the sights were, nothing could beat the expensively fluffy pillow welcoming you back after a long day.

“Little _bunny_ ~ don’t go to sleep yet, we still have something to do, _remember_?” He asked, voice mellifluous, as though sweetened with honey.

You shot up immediately, head rising up to gape at Azuma. Within a few beats, you notice he’s not looking at you, but instead laying out all of his (and your) skincare products on the coffee table.

Aha, right.

Your lack of an immediate response made the man turn around to face you, his ever-present smile looking a lot slyer than usual.

“Hmm? Is something wrong, _honey_?” he asked, leaving his station to sit on the bed beside you. His robe shifted slightly as he inched closer, a movement that did not go unnoticed by you.

Your heart fluttered the moment he started rubbing his thumb over your knuckles, a subconscious action that turned more purposeful as the tactile affection escalated upwards, the soft pads of his fingers slowly moving upwards to rub your arms.

With the distance between your faces decreasing, you resist the urge to shut your eyes as his you felt his hot breath against your cheek.

“You still haven’t said anything,” he reminded you, his free hand tilting your chin upwards. Eyes of gold greeted you, not unlike the lustrous jewellery royals would wear or the leaf crowns gods and goddesses would adorn in mythology.

“Your face is flushed, how cute,” Azuma said, “did you catch a cold, somehow?”

He didn’t actually think that, you knew perfectly well that he was aware of the effects of his actions. Still, he wasn’t one to pass up teasing you just as you weren’t one to unabashedly admit to how he was making you feel.

However, your patience could only take you so far.

“That’s not it,” you mumbled, “it’s… well,” you trailed off, hoping he would help you out and take the words out of your mouth.

He did not speak but his eyes did, a visible crinkle as he waited for you to arrange your words into something coherent.

“I know you’re probably tired from today,” you began, eyes darting to the side in a vain attempt to hide your embarrassment, “but I guess I’m… you’re—ugh,” you struggled to find the words, a direct enough phrase that didn’t come off as too desperate.

Azuma interrupted you with a fruity laugh, “you don’t have to worry. You could have just told me— we’ve done this _many_ times before.”

You pouted, “it’s not fair. Why do you have to be so _erotic_?”

“Fufu, thank you. Now, let’s play around for a bit tonight, okay, little bunny?”

The hand beneath your chin tugs you forward, and before your eyes closed you noticed the gold diminishing, hidden beneath the dark coal of his pupils.

The first of Azuma’s kisses always leaned towards the sweet side, and this time is no different. His lips were soft and gentle, but his kisses were given with enough pressure to prove that you’re not the only one enjoying this.

Your hand comes to rest on his shoulder as you interlace the fingers of your already joined hands. The night had only just begun, but you appreciated this moment of tenderness as the day’s fatigue slipped away.

Hands abandoning their chaste positions on each other’s hands and face, your arms go around his neck as one of his arms hug you closer by the waist and the other presses against the flat of your back.

Despite the slow motions between your lips, it was clear who took lead of the other, him slipping past the seams of your lips and rendering tiny sound out of you. The hand on your back travelled upwards, his nails catching the soft hairs at the nape of your neck making you shiver.

No matter how many times he’d done it, he could never tire of exploring you, the way you’d pull away from him to breathe a low, spell-inducing, “Azuma…”

He murmured your name in return, the sound sinfully pleasing into your ear. In the time you took the catch your breath, he went from holding you against his chest to having you underneath him, lips pressing against your jawline as he muttered sweet nothings to you.

“You’re so cute, my little bunny,” Azuma said, and you felt like every appendage in your body melted into a puddle.

He gave a teasing nip to your ear, the hitch in your breath making him chuckle. He wetted his lips his tongue before gently kissing every part of his neck. You closed your eyes at the sensation, gasping as he breathed hot air on your neck in between kisses.

“Are you ready for more?” He asks, the hand still around your waist playing with the hem of your pajama shirt. When you nod, Azuma takes his time in unbuttoning the piece, his fingers brushing over the newly-revealed expanse of skin. The contact was brief, and you whined as though to tell him to hurry up.

“Hn, what’s that? You want me to go slower?” Despite his words, he doesn’t make you wait any longer, pulling off your top as you propped yourself up momentarily to discard the article of clothing.

As you settle back down onto the plush bed, Azuma’s index started at your collarbone, before tracing down towards your chest. He drew an indecipherable pattern, before stroking the side and massaging the mound as his thumb tweaked one of your hardened nipples. He puts his mouth on the unattended one, sucking firmly, and you nearly come right off the bed, feeling the first, tiny bit of slickness rush through you.

Needing an anchor, you slid one hand in his hair and gripped his forearm with the other.

“Azuma,” you said, not quite sure what you’re asking for— but apparently he knew, because the pressure leaves your chest as the pad of his thumb ventures from your stomach to the garter of your underwear, pulling down your sleeping shorts with it. He adjusted himself on the bed, positioning himself so he could be closer to your lower half.

You shuddered as his fingertips travelled down along the length of your legs to follow your bottoms. When you lifted your head, you felt your face grow hot as you see the look on Azuma’s face as he eyes your pussy. It’s rare to see a hungry look in his eyes, a look only reserved for the most private of moments, but nonetheless it never failed to get you more excited.

His face came closer to the space between your legs, but when he made contact with your lower lips, the sheer skill of his tongue and mouth electrified you. Azuma knew just the right places to kiss, to lick, to suck— knew when to change spots and at what pace to do it.

“More,” you croak out, breathless,

“So responsive,” he crooned against your pussy, your body responding to the pulsation in kind, trembling.

“Azuma!” you mewled, warning him that you were closely approaching completion. When he finally pulled his mouth away, you couldn't help the disappointed noise that slipped out of you, though it’s quickly cut off as Azuma unties the belt of his robe.

The silky fabric slides off his body sensually, slowly unravelling himself to you until he was completely bare.

The sight of his naked body does nothing to quench your desire, but if his hardened member was anything to go by you could tell he wanted you just as much.

“Are you ready, my little bunny?”

“Yes,” you breathed out, the both of you spending a few seconds to stare at each other lovingly, before he finally aligned himself with your hot, dripping core. The tip kissed the entrance, and you can’t help the feelings of anticipation you felt.

His expression remains the same— the corner of his lips quirked upwards as he slowly moved into you. The slide is easier than expected because of your wetness, but both of you wait a couple beats for you to adjust to his size.

When you finally felt ready, you whined out Azuma’s name.

Pulling out slowly, he slid back in, sinking into your skin. Pressing his chest against yours, he briefly kissed you once again as he continued gliding in and out of you. You tasted a little bit of yourself on his mouth, which did nothing but to spur you on more.

He rolled his hips against yours, before pumping more rapidly into your heat, hammering himself into your insides. Tireless moans, whimpers, and iterations of his name spill out of your mouth as your gripped onto the bedsheets beneath you.

You’re clenching around him almost painfully now, still sensitive from his earlier ministrations on your clit, and both of you knew there wasn’t much time left before you reached euphoria.

You wouldn’t mind staying like this, having his perfect cock sliding in and out of you, but you know it isn’t possible as your breathing shortened and a shower of stars blur your vision.

“Azuma!” you wailed out, your head falling back as one last thrust making you cum at last. It doesn’t take long for your lover to follow suit either, a pained groan escaping his lips; pulling out of you, and smearing your stomach with his cum.

The both of you are spent and sweating, Azuma collapsing next to you on the mattress. Using what little strength you had left, you inched yourself closer to him until your head rested against his chest. His arm moved to settle beneath your head, massaging it lightly.

“I love you,” you said. With a gentle smile, he repeats your words.

“I love you too.”

You knew the two of you would have to get up eventually. You two had to clean up, and Azuma would never let either of you sleep without going through your respective skincare routines, but as you stared lovingly into his eyes you knew it could wait for a little longer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahaha NSFW isn't my strong suit, i honestly haven't written one in years. somehow, i hope this turned out okay? fluff is still my preference in writing haha, but dabbling in NSFW can be fun too!


	15. kazunari | mutuals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which reader and kazunari are insta mutuals  
> ⤷ gender-neutral reader  
> ⤷ not director reader  
> ⤷ SFW

The Insta notification that popped up on the top of your screen distracted you from the game you were playing. Normally you’d flick the notif away, but as soon as you realised what it was about, you rushed to finish the rest of the stage.

  


You and Kazunari have been Insta Mutuals for nearly a year now, ever since he hit you with a follow ~~and you proceeded to stalk his readily-available socials~~. 

The two of you had been liking and commenting on each others’ posts for weeks on end, starting off with you praising his most recent graphic design work to him sending a paragraph of heart emojis on the most recent fan art you drew.

Somewhere in between following each others’ spam accounts to tagging each other on Insta story games, he finally slid into your DMs and the rest was history. Sort of.

You knew what people said about online dating, or even just long distance relationships in general, but try as you might it was hard not to fall for Kazunari.

The more you talked to him, the less he stayed as your “funny artist mutual” and soon enough he progressed into the “still funny but also really sweet and cute artist online friend, 10/10 would date if asked” category.

You didn’t bother stifling your laugh as you looked at the message he sent you, immediately liking his selfie before saving it on your phone.

  


Okay, no. He can’t just hit you with an “I do wanna meet u already” and then take it back but not fully commit to it!

You waited for him to respond through text, but instead got hit by your ringtone blaring loudly at such an ungodly hour. At the sight of your contact nickname for him, you eagerly answered his call. You rushed to get the first word in, him doing the same unbeknownst to you.

“Kazu-“

“Babe, I-“

The both of you paused, his eventual laughter easing up your tension as you let out a giggle of your own. You mentally told yourself not to be so nervous— Kazunari and you would have this conversation eventually anyway; besides, it wasn’t as if you didn’t want to see him in person. It was quite the opposite, actually. You just figured that conversations like this needed to happen in call, at least.

“Shoot, should probs shut up so Mukkun doesn’t wake up,” Kazunari commented, his voice volume already lowered, “do you wanna go first?” He asked.

“Yeah,” you replied with resolve. You gathered up your thoughts, formulating the next set of sentences that would leave your mouth, before ultimately deciding on one question. “I just need to know first… how serious were you about meeting up irl?”

“I mean, that wasn’t what I meant when I sent the message? But like, it’s still valid, you know?” he paused, but when you didn’t say anything he decided to continue, “it’s not the first time I’ve thought about meeting you. I think about it a lot, actually.”

It was a bit of a shame the two of you chose to voice call instead of video call. You would’ve loved to see your boyfriend’s face just about now, though you supposed it wouldn’t be a good idea to have a heart attack a quarter to 4 in the morning.

Plus, you weren’t sure you could handle him teasing _and_ throwing compliments at you due to your _clearly_ visible elation, if the upwards stretch of your lips was anything to go by.

“Babe? You still there? Did you pass out, or…” In reality it had only been a few seconds, but still you didn’t want to leave him hanging. Not when the two of you were talking about something that meant taking the next step in your relationship.

“I’m still here, Kazu,” you reassured him. Your voice shook slightly, a sliver of your excitement slipping through the cracks. “I’m the same. Like, no lie I _was_ shocked we brought it up like this, but, um… I’m ready, and if you’re ready, too, I want to meet up with you.”

“Wait, wait, _wait_ — hol’ up! So we’re finally going—“ he laughed for the second time tonight, a fuzzy-wuzzy warmth escaping as its sound equivalent. “Wahh! Of _course_ I’m ready! Can’t wait to finally see what a _cutie_ you are irl♪ Hngg, how am I supposed to sleep now? I’m too hyped up!”

You rolled your eyes, despite understanding exactly how he felt. His infectious cheerfulness amplified the blossoming commotion occurring inside your brain. Despite not making any official plans yet, the prospect of finally meeting up had you frenzied.

Still, one of you had to be at least _slightly_ responsible. While you wouldn’t claim to know his daily schedule, if Veludo Arts was anything like your university, he should be as swamped with workload as you were. Actually, maybe that was the reason he was up so late? That’s how it was for you, anyway ~~excluding the fact that you took a break to stamina clear.~~

“It’s nearly 4 am… do you wanna continue planning this tomorrow? Err, rather, in a couple hours? After our lectures end, maybe?” You asked, though by the tiny whine Kazunari let out you had a feeling he wasn’t going to agree so quickly.

“Ehh? Why don’t we do it now? I have _so_ many ideas about where we could go, and what we could do… oh! I could introduce you to _everyone_ in Mankai! I’m sure they’d love-“

“I’d love to meet them too,” you cut him off, tone as firm as you could manage at this time, “and I want to hear your ideas, really, but I just _know_ if I let you keep talking the sun will rise before we’ve even decided on a date.”

You chuckled as Kazunari let out a sound of protest, though you had a feeling he knew you weren’t wrong about your assessment. “ _Zuzu_ ~ Let’s go to sleep now, okay?”

His phone microphone picked up on an audible gasp. “Ehh, how come you rarely call me Zuzu? It’s cute when you say it!”

“Because it sounds like a nickname you’d give to a Pokemon!”

“Uwu, maybe I’ll get Itarun to lend me a copy? Then I’ll catch the cutest Pokemon and name it after you~” you nearly groaned at how fluffy he was being. Seriously, he was distracting you from your agenda of going to sleep!

“Kazu! Stop flirting with me at 4 am or we might not fall asleep!”

Though you couldn’t see him, you were 200% sure he had a wide grin plastered on his face right now. “Me? Using _tactics_ to get you to keep talking with me? _Never_ ,” he claimed, professing his false innocence.

“Well, I’m not falling for it! I may not be able to physically tuck you in bed right now, but I can in spirit!”

“Oh!? Then can you give me a goodnight kiss in spirit, too?”

At this point, you were sure that even with just a poke on the cheek you’d be able to feel the heat beginning to envelop your face.

As Kazunari finished laughing, you let the quiet lull of the night seep in the conversation for a few moments before gently breaking it.

“I’d rather give you a kiss irl, though.”

And just like that, you claimed victory over the game he started. With how Kazunari sputtered, a part of you worried that he’d disturb his roommate’s slumber. Still, an even bigger part of you was smug to have him speechless for that much of a duration.

“Babeeeee,” he drawled, “you’re so, so, _so_ unfair… I, like, really want to hold you tight right now…” he murmured, the rustle of his bedsheets discernible through the call. You found yourself nestling onto your bed, too, snuggling up to a soft pillow.

“Soon,” you suddenly yawned, your tiredness seeming to have settled in the comfier you got on the bed. “We’ll have a lot of time to plan tomorrow and the days after, yeah?”

Kazunari let out a hum in agreement, a comfortable silence following suit.

“Kazu?” You muttered quietly, careful not to disturb your peaceful atmosphere.

“Yeah?”

“I love you. Good night,” you said, heart aflutter as you heard his response.

“I love you, too, cutie~ sweet dreams♪” he said in an unbelievably soft tone, before ending the call.

After quickly connecting your phone to a charger, you fell back atop your bed and hugged your pillow tight, already anticipating the day you’d be able to hold Kazunari in your arms, and you in his.

##  **…**

Morning come, you hastily prepared for class as you always did. You fell into your usual routine— as soon as you were out of the bathroom, you selected an outfit and went over the things you needed to bring to uni today.

You stopped for a minute; taking a quick selfie to post on your story and emphasise your exhaustion to your close friends, before making yourself some breakfast. Within less than 5 minutes, your phone pinged— a recorded message from one of your favourite people this early in the morning.

**"Mornin' piko☆ You're looking cute as always today♪”**

There was no way you would admit to how many times you replayed it to Kazunari, but even so it was a good way to keep you positive for the rest of the day.

* * *

You don’t remember Veludo Way being this rowdy, though it was hard to trust your memory when it’s probably been years since you’ve last visited. Somehow, it was not tough to imagine Kazunari walking around and performing here— the liveliness of the streets difficult to _not_ associate with one of the liveliest people you knew.

While the original plan was to meet up at a cute and trendy cafe you saw all over people’s SNS, the two of you agreed to meet up somewhere less crowded and more meaningful to him— the theatre which he’d performed at multiple times in the past.

As you saw the building from a distance, you wondered when you’d be able to see him on stage, too.

A shout of your name pulled you out of your thoughts, and you couldn’t help yourself from running over to meet up faster with the figure that was jumping and waving around in your direction.

Had you any sense left, you probably would have told him that you didn’t want him embarrassing himself in public, but in reality it was quite apparent that you were just as excited to finally see him in person.

“Kazunari!” you can’t help the little shriek you let out as you finally embrace him, only joyous laughter and each others’ names escaping the both of your lips. When you finally got a good look at Kazunari, you nearly wanted to bury yourself into his shirt again.

Everything still seemed so unbelievable. That this was real. That it was finally happening. It almost felt like the dreams you’ve had of this moment many times before.

“How are you so beautiful in person, too?! It’s totes like I’m falling in love with you again♪” Kazunari exclaimed, squeezing you one more time before finally settling on holding hands with you. “Ahh! I super, duper love you!”

Except it wasn’t. There was nothing imaginary about his warmth, and the way his words made you feel, and the beaming sunshine of a smile he aimed at you.

“I love you, too!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For a tumblr anon!
> 
> Me? Back w/ fluff? It’s expected at this point! His speech is hard for me to replicate, but I rly do love Kazunari so I hope I did this scenario justice! I, uh, got too excited at the prospect of “insta mutuals” oops~ hope you don’t mind the additional media TT


	16. juza | pansy ✿

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which juza’s having some trouble building his new character, and reader helps him figure it out over the course of a week  
> ⤷ gender-neutral reader  
> ⤷ not director reader  
> ⤷ SFW  
> ⤷ PART OF THE FLORIST AU ONE-SHOT COLLECTION *denoted by ✿ in the title*  
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is one of my works for my 500 follower celebration event on my tumblr. i'm not sure if i should add them all here or on a separate fic?

“Will you let him stay for a while?” Tsumugi asked you, your eyes immediately shifting to the tall, purple-haired man beside him. Though his expression was tough, he refused to even spare you a glance save for the when he first entered the store.

“Well…” you trailed off, still a little conflicted on what decision to make. On one hand, it was hard to refuse one of the flower shop’s regulars— especially when the explanation behind his sudden request reasonable enough. On the other hand, as nice as Juza probably was on the inside, if he was just going to stay silent the whole time it not only would be awkward, but there was a chance he’d scare some customers away.

As soon as the thought entered your head, you felt a little awful. He literally hasn’t said a word to you?

Making up your mind, you slowly nodded in response. “I don’t mind. He’ll just be observing the flowers, right? And looking at the reference book?”

“Yes, that’s pretty much it. Thank you for accepting,” Tsumugi turned to look at his junior, patting his arm lightly, “see you back home.”

“Thank you for your patronage, Tsukioka-san.”

“… see you, Tsumugi-san.”

As soon as the blue-haired man left the building, all was silent again.

What were you supposed to do? Would he appreciate you showing him round the store? Telling him about all the flowers? Do you ask him about what he needed to know for this role? Would he prefer to be left to his own devices and do it on his own?

When he suddenly called you by your name, well, surname, you’re caught off-guard. You turned to face him, and though he still can’t look you straight in the eyes, he at least knew you were listening.

“… sorry, I’ll try not to be a bother,” he says, frown still present but voice unexpectedly genuine, “…might scare your customers away, though.”

He didn’t sound sad about it, resigned if anything, but you found that you were kicking yourself anyway despite him not knowing what was going through your head a while ago. While you couldn’t comfort him or anything, there was at least something you could do to help him.

“Juza-kun,” you said, and for the first time, his eyes met yours. Perhaps if the two of you were to lock gazes at another place and time, you would have been intimidated; enclosed at the space of your flower shop, you somehow figured you’d end up enjoying his company.

“Would you like to see some flowers?”

* * *

**Sunday**.

“… don’t really get it,” Juza muttered, the pads of his fingers carefully brushing against the petals, “why I got chosen for this role.”

You paused your previous ministrations, setting aside your spray water bottle to look at him questioningly. By the manner Tsukioka-san explained Juza’s situation earlier, he made it seem as though the latter was enthusiastic to play this role— was he mistaken?

  
“What do you mean?” you asked, walking over to the same spot Juza stood. Neither of you faced the other, as though you two were talking to the vibrant colours instead.

“Flowers are delicate,” the petal slipped from his index, “I’m not,” he said matter-of-factly.

Neither of you could deny that.

“… maybe you’re focusing too much on thinking of flowers generally,” you replied, the silence consuming the both of you thereafter.

The two of you barely talked the rest of the day, the only other time the two of you glanced at each other was when he said his farewell.

 **Monday**.

Coming back from school for your shift at the shop, you didn’t expect to run into the purple-haired man on the way there.

“Juza-kun?” He stood quietly at a street corner, his stillness making you wonder how long he’d been there. Weren’t… weren’t people looking at him suspiciously? Did he notice? What was he doing?

He greeted you back, and you found yourself in an awkward stare-off with him for a few seconds. With a cough, he darted his eyes away from yours. “You weren’t at the shop,” he replied gruffly.

Oh, was he waiting for you?

You let out a little laugh as you asked him to follow you, failing to miss the small hint of surprise on Juza’s face as he walked behind you. The walk was quiet, but your mind was noisy with questions.

“Did you want to look at the flowers again?”

“… thought about what you said.”

You couldn’t react immediately, already stood at the storefront. Stepping into the shop, you greeted your co-worker and your companion quickly distanced himself, taking to the assortment of potted plants instead.

“Is that delinquent your boyfriend or something?” your co-worker whispered quietly, peeking behind you worriedly. You stopped in the middle of tying your work apron, narrowing your eyes.

“What?”

“He was standing outside a while ago,” she explained, “but he left pretty quickly. I thought he was being shady, but then he comes in with you?”

You sighed, rubbing your temples. Right, you didn’t get the chance to mention Tsukioka-san’s request from yesterday. You didn’t think you had to?

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you corrected, immediately shutting down whatever notion she had in her head, “Tsukioka-san asked me to help him with something.”

You almost giggled at how quickly she perked up at the familiar name. You bet he didn’t even realise how popular he was.

As you bid your adieus in advance, you exited the storage backroom and nearly yelped at the sight of Juza hunched over the counter, looking through the reference book.

“Are you looking for something specific?” you asked, leaning onto the counter to peer over the pages.

“… yesterday, you said I was being too general.”

You raised your eyebrows. Was he still thinking about that? “Guess I did, yeah.”

He flipped over another page, eyebrows furrowed as he skimmed through the content in front of him. You were sure he was trying his best to absorb the content, but you had a feeling it wasn’t working out as well as he had hoped.

You placed a hand over the book, and though you barely covered anything he got your intention pretty quickly.

“That’s going to take you forever,” you insisted, angling the book to face you instead as you flipped the pages over to the table of contents.

“What do you need for your characterisation, anyway?” from the corner of your eye, you could see the gears turning in his brain.

“Something happy,” he started, and you found yourself mentally listing down all the readily available flowers that fit into that meaning. Should be easy enough, there were many flowers that corresponded to happiness—

“Something calm,” he continued, and you found yourself turning around to look at him incredulously. “Something innocent.”

Was he gonna keep going?

“Something passionate, and something about new beginnings.”

“That’s a lot,” you stated the obvious, racking your brain for any flower that could possibly mean all of those. Maybe even a set of flowers from the same family? Happiness and innocence were often associated with each other anyway, and there were many flowers that meant passion anyway— though more on the love side of things. The other two, though…

“I’d need to look a bit more into that,” you apologised, eyes flitting from name to name to find a similar flower, “did Tsukioka-san say anything that could help?”

Juza let out a small hum, “he gave me a list.”

You thought he’d pull out his phone or something, so you couldn’t help the small laugh as he brought out a ripped out piece of notebook paper from his pocket. As soon as he handed it to you, you found yourself ticking off the flowers that wouldn’t work— whether it be obscurity or having a too vague meaning.

Lavender… Lily… Magnolia…

You stopped at the next flower listed. Oh, that could actually work?

“I think I have a reference for you,” you said. Unbeknownst to you, Juza subconsciously registered that as the first time you smiled at him.

 **Tuesday**.

Why weren’t you surprised he would be at the street corner?

“Juza-kun, just wait inside the store,” you told him, a little exasperated. You understood his intentions, but he didn’t have to keep waiting outside every time for your arrival? “What if I got back a little late?”

“S’fine,” he mumbled quietly, falling into step with you, “it was only for a few minutes.”

“Ouka High is a lot closer, though,” you reminded him, “at this rate you’re gonna end up as a landmark.”

The conversation fell short again, the background noise filling up your silence. The door chime rang as you opened the door, and you checked in with your co-worker while Juza found himself with the flowers again.

“Did the delivery—?”

“Yep, it came today! Aha, he’s actually looking at some of them right now?”

Thanking her, you headed over to him and stared at the vibrant pink.

“Gentleness,” you said, loud enough for Juza to hear you, “pastel pink pansies mean something along the lines of gentleness and innocence.”

With Juza’s head bowed down, you thought he himself looked a lot like a pansy— a flower that resembled the human face, intelligent and pensive, nodding forward late in the summer as though deep in thought. The colour of his hair didn’t help diminish your imagination, either. After minutes of silence, he finally spoke up again.

“Muku,” he muttered. You tilted your head in confusion.

“Muku?”

“… my cousin,” he explained, “is a lot like this flower.”

Maybe it was your imagination, but somehow he sounded, looked a little softer.

“You must be pretty fond of him,” even if he weren’t to reply, you knew you already had your answer.

 **Wednesday**.

You were running. Somehow you got distracted by the new cookies they were advertising at a cafe near your high school. Perhaps it was because of your ongoing situation with Juza, but as soon as you read the words “dessert” and “edible flowers” you made a bee-line for the store.

… and you ended up buying more than one, too. A whole pack of 6, actually. Really, who could blame you? The blue, pressed pansies atop the honey glazed lemon shortbread cookies looked absolutely scrumptious!

But now you were in a rush to get to work, and in your haste, you accidentally bumped into someone. You found yourself a little shocked as you looked up, familiar purple hair coming into vision.

“Oh, Juza-kun,” you greeted, “you’re actually not at the corner today?”

“Got dismissed late,” he said with a shrug, “you?”

You let out a chuckle, lifting the paper bag so he could see. “I bought some cookies after school. I thought the flowers on them were cute,” you explained, and for a split second, you swore Juza’s eyes widened slightly.

“… cookies?”

“Hm? Yeah. Do you like cookies?”

“… they’re fine,” he turned to face sideways, though that didn’t hide the pink blooming on his cheeks.

_Oh?_

“I’ll give you one later,” you said, doing your best to stifle the laugh that threatened to escape. How unexpected! That was kind of cute, actually. “We’re going to keep blocking the sidewalk at this rate, we should go.”

Somehow, the silence wasn’t so awkward this time, a little calming, even.

 **Thursday**.

That was weird. No sight of Juza on the way to the flower shop— was he running late? Would he not be coming today, after all? For some reason, the thought made you a little sad. Perhaps you were starting to enjoy his company, after all.

Your co-worker gave you a knowing glance as soon as you entered the building, and any confusion immediately dissipated as you saw your purple-haired… friend? (Did he consider you two as friends?) by the yellow pansies.

“Juza-kun!” you greeted with a smile, pleased to hear him say your name as he greeted you back. Even with just this much, you were glad to have crossed a new boundary with him.

You nearly ran over to him, only stopping midway as you heard quiet laughter. You turned to face your fellow florist, holding up your work apron.

Aha, _right_.

“ _I’m only doing this as a favour to Tsukioka-san,_ ” she mimicked as soon as you stepped in the backroom, “ _he’s not my boyfriend~_ ”

 _How_ was this woman older than you?

You groaned, trying to put on your apron as fast as possible before bolting out the door. “Byeeee,” you said, hiding from her line of sight as you rushed over to Juza.

“Hey,” you greeted again, alerting him of your presence, even though he probably already knew you were there beforehand.

“Haven’t seen this one yet,” he commented, eyes a little narrower as he looked at the bouquet of yellow blotch pansies. “You said they meant happiness, right?”

The corners of your lips turned upward. “Oh, you remembered!” you said in delight, if not a little proud, “yep! Happiness in general… but,” you trailed off, causing your companion to look at you with interest.

“Is there another meaning?”

You laughed a little awkwardly, not meeting his gaze while not exactly avoiding it either. “I mean, it’s more of a personal interpretation, so it’s not really important.”

You could still feel his eyes on you, making you feel a bit self-conscious. Aha, seriously, the atmosphere between the two of you was already good— what were you doing?

“… I do think your opinion is important, though.”

You coughed, looking at him with a mixture and disbelief. Surprisingly, he didn’t retract or back down from his statement at all, further amplifying your flustered feelings. He remained unbothered, almost as if he somehow didn’t realise your reaction.

“Um, well,” you began, “you know how there’s like a dark coloured blotch within the yellow follower?”

Juza hummed in response, letting you know that he was following.

“On one hand, I think it could mean pretending to be happy even though you’re in a dark place,” you explained, “but it could mean finding happiness even though you’re battling your inner demons…”

He doesn’t respond for what seems like minutes, and you have half the mind to quickly change the topic. Your interpretation was probably a bit of a reach, wasn’t it? Too edgy, perhaps?

“… that was good,” he said, “I liked what you said.”

Though his praise was simple, you found yourself beaming anyway. It… was nice to know that he appreciated what you said.

Before you could get another word in, you heard the door swing open. You should _probably_ attend to that.

You turned your back to Juza, about to walk away from him until you felt a tug on your arm. You stilled, wondering what could have possibly prompted the sudden contact.

“Juza-kun?” you asked quietly, voice unexpectedly shaky.

“… your apron is loose.”

“Oh! Thanks, I, uh, probably didn’t tie it properly,” you reasoned, your arms reaching back behind you to tie it, a somewhat futile attempt but an attempt nonetheless.

You failed to notice the cherry red blush on Juza’s face, to focused on trying to remove your own.

 **Friday**.

“So how many colours are there?”

“Way too many,” you answered, “like sometimes they come in one colour, sometimes two or three; sometimes pastel, bright, or dark— all of them probably have different meanings too.”

You propped your elbows on the counter, hands cupping your face. In the past few days, you were able to accompany Juza wherever in the shop, but Fridays tended to be more busy compared to the other weekdays, causing the need to be heedful for incoming customers.

“So even more colours to learn…” you laughed out loud. How seriously was he taking this? Just for one flower?

“I mean you only really need to stay until you have enough info to flesh out your character,” you pointed out.

He didn’t reply for a while, and you had nearly worried that something had happened back there, but Juza piped back in the conversation eventually.

“So red symbolises passion, right?”

“Yep!” you said, fingers idly playing with the loose thread of your apron, “though I supposed a lot of red flowers mean passion and love, huh.”

“… and the white pansies?”

“It can mean purity and spirituality,” you started to explain, “but some say that when you give it to someone, you’re telling them to give you a chance.”

The room fell silent once more, but over the course of a week, you didn’t mind it anymore. It was a little comforting, actually, having someone around— not even to help you with the shop or anything, but just a friend to talk to.

As you were about to close the shop, Juza appeared in front of you.

“I think I have my character figured out now,” he told you, and you felt yourself swelling with happiness and accomplishment.

“That’s great! Our hard work finally pulled through!”

The tiny hint of loneliness that you felt got left unsaid.

“Sorry for bothering you all week.”

“Trust me, I wasn’t bothered at all!”

 **Saturday**.

“Huh, he’s not gonna be here today?” your co-worker asked as you arrived for your shift, “I legit thought you were joking about just helping him out of the goodness of your heart or whatever.”

You smiled a little sheepishly, “he already figured out what to do for his role. I’m sure he must be busy practising now, so I probably won’t see him around.”

You pretended to not see the look of sympathy thrown your way.

 **Sunday**.

Two weeks had passed since you last saw him, and you chided yourself for thinking that the shop felt a bit emptier lately. At what point did you get so fond of him?

Even now, on the way to the shop, you found yourself stopping at the street corner, as though he’d be there again and was just too shy to enter without you.

Seriously, just what were you doing? Friends could go a while without seeing each other, it wasn’t a big deal.

Or at least that was what you told yourself for a grand total of three minutes, because that all came crumbling down as you saw his familiar figure standing outside the flower shop.

“Juza-kun?”

You approached him with slow steps, briefly wondering if you just went through some next level hallucination, but the closer you got the more evident that he was the real thing.

“Umm, is there something you need?”

His eyes wouldn’t meet yours, not unlike the first couple of days you spent with him. “… here,” he unloaded the two things into your hands, one of which you recognised while the other was a mystery.

You checked the envelope first, a pleasant surprise greeting you.

“A play… _your_ play ticket?” you asked him, and he nodded as though to confirm your assumption.

“I remember you said you weren’t busy during that time and day, so…” with a gentle smile, you tucked the ticket back inside the envelope for safe-keeping.

“I’ll be there to support you, for sure.”

With the mystery item set aside, only the white paper bag with the flower logo was left. Somehow, even without opening it, you already knew what the contents would be.

“… they had other colours and flavours for the cookies,” he said as you took out the small box of 6, “the ones with the white pansies are vanilla and cinnamon flavoured, and the ones with the pink pansies are dark chocolate and raspberry flavoured.”

It took a while for you to comprehend the situation, still a little befuddled by him even appearing again until you realised what he was trying to say.

“White and pink pansies,” you said with a laugh, before ushering him back inside the shop.

You suddenly felt a lot less lonely.


	17. itaru | save file

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which reader and itaru fake date, and have matching rings  
> ⤷ gender-neutral reader  
> ⤷ not director reader  
> ⤷ SFW

■■■■■■■■■■■□□□ NOW LOADING

 **** **SAVE FILE 2** LOADED

Itaru’s not the least bit surprised at the sight of your wrinkled nose; neither is he shocked at the crease that formed between your brows nor the narrowing of your eyes. It must be a lot to take in, truly, but it had to be done.

“Chigasaki-kun,” you said, immediately trailing off as though you couldn’t convey the rest of your thoughts. That was fine, he thought, he can wait for his SP to fill up for 100 minutes so _surely_ he can wait a couple more minutes for your response.

It’s a bit embarrassing, but maybe he needs to explain a bit more? He doesn’t mind too much, he _was_ putting you on the spot, after all.

“I know it’s sudden,” Itaru said apologetically, “but I need you. You’re the only one who can—“

“ _Chigasaki-kun_ ,” you repeated, sounding firmer this time around. At this point, Itaru noticed that your eyes never left the cafe table that separated the two of you, or rather what laid right smack in the centre of it. As soon as he slid it towards you, your eyes had gone from wide and surprised to squinting, almost as though it had offended you.

He was so focused on your line of sight that he failed to notice the sudden rush of red that raced across your cheeks. After a moment of silence, you let out a deep breath.

“Why the _fuck_ did you just give me a replica of Byleth’s ring from Fire Emblem?”

“Oh, don’t worry,” he dug through his pocket to bring out another ring, the exact same design, “I have another one.”

* * *

■■■■■■■■□□□□□□ NOW LOADING

 **** **SAVE FILE 4** LOADED

“Hey, you made it! Thanks for coming, Chigasaki-sa—“ as he took in the sight of your locked hands, his co-worker let out a comically loud gasp, before trying _and failing_ to cover it up with an awkward cough.

Itaru’s not stupid, at the very least he’s definitely not blind or deaf. Besides the gracious host, he can tell everyone is shocked and _staring_. They’re not even trying to be discrete about it anymore.

The people from his department had been gossiping for all of last week, creating speculations on his love life. The theories had a lot of exaggeration, a lot of denial.

You squeezed his hand a little tighter, him reciprocating to reassure you.

Envy. Judgement.

Still, as he glanced at your face to check for any sign of discomfort only to find a poised smile, he was once again reminded by your strength and fortitude. He always admired that from you, and it was always so enthralling to see that side of you in action.

* * *

■■■■■■■■■■■■□□ NOW LOADING

 **** **SAVE FILE 1** LOADED

“You’ll come, won’t you?” Itaru let out a quiet hum, yet refusing to answer immediately. Though he’d prefer to sit out of most gatherings, he particularly disliked going to non-essential get-togethers where the only real purpose was for his co-workers to eat and drink less restrained as they would with the higher-ups around.

Normally he would have some excuse conjured up, maybe even pretend to check his phone calendar and reject the invite apologetically. However, he had already skipped out three times, consecutively.

He already breached the _three strikes and you’re out_ rule, and he’s not so sure risking going for four would be the smartest play for his reputation… but it probably wouldn’t hurt to save game and set aside his decision making for later.

“I’ll have to check my schedule. I just need to check with someone first,” he said, thinking back to the director and the rest of spring troupe. Would any of them give him an excuse he has yet to use?

“Ahh, feel free to bring your sister then!” the man paused, a small smirk appearing as his eyebrows waggled. “Unless you wanna bring, you know, a _friend._ ”

* * *

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 **SAVE FILE 2** LOADED

“You just don’t want to suffer alone,” you said, using your fork to prod at the meal he treated you to. Surely a one time gathering wasn’t all there is to it? Chigasaki Itaru, who always kept his life outside work private, suddenly wanting people to know he had a significant other?

Even though he didn’t?

“I’ve been to those— I _know_ they suck,” you continued, your eyes darting away from the silver band to look at him properly, “will this even benefit you?”

“It’ll probably be annoying at first,” he replied, keeping eye contact to let you know how serious he was, “dealing with everyone’s questions, but they’ll eventually just accept it and stop bothering me.”

“What about me?”

“You work somewhere else— they won’t get the chance to bother you,” he pointed out, propping his elbow on the table as he rest his cheek on his knuckles. He continued seeing as you stayed silent, “plus, don’t you have anyone bothering you about your lack of a love life?”

In any other instance, you probably would have made a remark about him being too dedicated to his waifus to date as well, but you could only grimace as you recalled the upcoming family reunion. If your aunts teased you again for not being in a relationship… if your mom kept insisting that you were just hiding a secret boyfriend to delude herself…

“Fine, but in exchange—“

Itaru let out a chuckle, “so the matching rings aren’t enough? I’ll have you know, they’re Class A replicas.”

You snorted, “stop, stop! I’m being serious here!” you said, lightly kicking his feet from beneath the table. When he moved to retaliate, you hastily pushed your feet beneath your chair.

“Oi—“

“Just kidding, just kidding!“ he said, raising his hands up in surrender, “so, how can I help you?”

“… you up for a family reunion lunch on Sunday?”

* * *

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 **SAVE FILE 3** LOADED

“So, like, do we need to prepare any— dude, dude, _dude_ what the…? This part of your island is—” Even without heading over to where you were, he immediately knew which area you were cackling about.

“That’s the nature dump! Obviously not gonna terraform it yet?” Itaru replied, “I need a place to place all the normie flowers?”

He heard you scoff, your animal crossing character running up to his and hitting him with a net.

“Not _that_ dump, dummy! Why are there toilets? The fences— toilets—“ you trailed off, unable to help yourself from bursting back into laughter. He instinctively laughed alongside you, knowing the monstrosity you were talking about.

“What kind of idiot makes a pathway out of toilets?”

“Hey! They create a cool effect when you walk past it!” he said, defending himself as your character hit his on the head again, “kind of like a clam opening up—“

“It’s a _toilet_! Not a clam!”

“Ya? Well I, Taruchi, am a resident of Urinetown, subtitle: actually an island and not a town,” Itaru said, almost as if he was proud of himself. “Before you come from me, Urinetown is a musical about capitalism. What’s your excuse, Pen Island?”

You gasped, obviously fake but dramatic enough to continue your banter “I’ll have you know, the actual name is Pen _Isles_? Also, you named our Stardew Valley farm—“ you paused, as though realising something, “wait, wasn’t I going to ask you something?”

“… pfft, GJ.”

* * *

■■■■■■■■■■■□□□ NOW LOADING

 **SAVE FILE 3** LOADED

“Itaru,” he repeated to you for the third time tonight.

“Shoot, sorry,” you apologised, making your animal crossing character portray your shock at your slip-up again. Lmao, that was cute. “Damn… it’s weird going from Chigasaki-kun to _just_ Itaru.”

It was his turn to hit your character with a net.

“Taruchi isn’t _that_ far from Itaru, and you call me that all the time,” he stated, snorting at the little huff that was somehow still audible on call.

“Calling you your IGN is way different though?” you protested, “I can’t just call you that in public?”

“Shame it might expose me irl,” he sighed in disappointment, “it would have been cute to have my gamer s/o go ‘uwu Taruchi, fighto!’”

“ _Hahhh_? Was it ever cute any time I called you Taruchi?” you asked, incredulousness present in your tone as you proceeded to mock him, “uwu, Taruchi, fighto!… there, was that cute at all?”

Itaru’s hand slid up to cover his face, his growing smile lifting his cheeks upward. You were clearly just joking around, but, well, “who knows? Maybe if you said ‘Taruchi-sama, ganbatte! I’d be able to—“

“ _Itaru!_ ” you interrupted, immediately making the human equivalent noise of a keyboard smash, your little avatar running around in circles as he imagined what expression your face had right now.

Amidst his unrestrained laughter, he managed to squeeze in his next sentence in parts. “You— you finally said it! Otsu~”

* * *

■■■■■■■□□□□□□□ NOW LOADING

 **SAVE FILE 4** LOADED

You had only called him ‘Itaru’ that one time, every other time being ‘Taruchi’ in private or ‘Itaru-kun’ in public. Still, hearing you say his name in person instead of on the phone made it feel like the first time again.

Luckily for him, he didn’t get that much time to dwell on it. Someone had led you two to sit somewhere, surrounded by more of his polite and friendlier coworkers. Exchanging pleasantries with them was easy enough, as was answering questions about your relationship.

They’ve had multiple test runs after all. There was no way they were messing up any details, there was no room or possibility of either of them even fumbling.

“How long have you two known each other?”

“We’ve been friends since university,” you replied, something that was actually true, “it took years for me to even confess! I’m just glad Itaru accepted,” you gave him a purposeful glance, your bashful expression nearly enough to lead him to believe that you really did have a crush on him all this time.

“So you two have been together since—?”

“After my graduation,” Itaru supplied helpfully, “so it’s been a few years.”

“That’s so sweet! You know,” the woman in front of you lowered her voice, and you leaned in a little closer to listen in, “a lot of us were wondering if Chigasaki was dating anyone after we saw his ring. I thought it was just a fashion statement, but now I know it’s the real deal!”

She eyed the silver band on your ring finger, one that completely matched his.

“The rings are beautiful! The design is completely unique,” another person commented. Itaru felt your ring finger loop around his own, and the two of you turned to look at each other, sharing an amused grin.

If only they knew it was actually really well done game merch.

* * *

■■■■■■■■■□□□□□ NOW LOADING

 **SAVE FILE 2** LOADED

“What’s the point of the rings, though?” you asked, curious of just how far Itaru was taking this plan anyway.

“Do you not like it?” Itaru asked. Undeniably, he would be a bit upset if you ended up not liking the ring. After all, he bought it because—

“It’s lovely,” you said sincerely, carefully picking up the ring, “just surprised you already had rings on hand?”

He chuckled apprehensively, “I was going to save it as a friendship anniversary gift,” he explained, “I still feel a little guilty I didn’t get you anything last year.”

“You don’t have to get me anything anyway,” you said reassuringly, “but I appreciate it.”

He watched you slip the ring on your left ring finger, mouth opening up to apologise as he saw how loose the ring was on you, about to offer to have it resized immediately before you interrupted with quiet laughter.

“It’s a bit awkward right now, but I love it.”

* * *

■■■■■■■■■■■□□□ NOW LOADING

 **SAVE FILE 4** LOADED

The get-together was going really well, surprisingly. He still would have preferred to be in the comfort of his room, but your presence just made everything so much easier. Even the questions people threw at the two of you weren’t so bothersome, dodging the more nosy people and sticking with anything general.

It had somehow become a game between the two of you. It was like an act off, almost, of who could give the more impressive or heart fluttering statement. Whether it was for the sake of your audience or to just affect each other remains unsaid.

“What do you like about Itaru?”

You looked away from him, closing your eyes as though you were thinking. To be fair, anything real personality or gaming related was out of bounds. Would you cater your response to his work persona, or—

“Everything!”

He nearly choked on air, trying to ignore the urge to clutch at his heart.

“That’s no fair, give something more specific!”

“I do like everything about Itaru, though?” you said with a cute pout, “but I guess I like his kindness the most. He’s always so thoughtful and considerate. He’s a busy man, but he always finds the time to help me out when I need it.”

Everyone cooed at the two of them, but he found it difficult to concentrate on that when he could only cling onto the words that started to sound more and more real as the night went by.

Out of context, everything you said could be interpreted as you just being friendly, but there was something in the way you pronounced his name and the expression on your face as you talked about him that was… _different_.

“What about you, Chigasaki?”

Escaping from his thoughts, his mind was filled to the brim with thoughts, but the words refused to spill from his lips.

Was there a way to describe how captivated he was at your little quirks, from the random filler noises you’d make on call or text when words failed you, to the literal quirk of the corner of your lips as you shifted expressions.

Was there a way express his appreciation for sticking by him for years, regardless of his hidden side? Was there a way to express his gratefulness for the laughter rendered and the tears wiped off by you; the smile blooming on his face as he imitated your own subconsciously?

This was the one thing he couldn’t have a manual or guide to study, so he could only hope that he went with the right dialogue choice.

“Everything too, actually.”

■■■■■■■■■■■■■□ AUTOSAVING

 **AUTOSAVE** SUCCESSFUL!

* * *

The drive back home was quiet. He was exhausted, and he could tell you were too, but as he neared your street his driving got slower and slower, almost unmoving. From the corner of his eye, he saw you fiddle with your ring, twisting it around your fourth finger before pulling it off completely.

“Oh, we’re here,” you said out loud, yet you didn’t make a move to reattach your seatbelt.

“Itaru.”

Oh, _wow_. If hearing it a while ago trumped hearing it over call, then hearing you murmur his name in private, with just the two of you present, was…

“You look like you have something on your mind,” you continued, “all throughout the whole get-together, actually. Are you okay?”

When everything about _this_ , about _you_ simultaneously felt so new yet so familiar to him, how could he possibly convey his feelings? His admiration, no, his love for you?

He took the ring from your grasp, and before you could question what was up, he had grabbed your hand as well. With a serendipitous conscientiousness, he slid the ring back onto your ring finger, admiring your rosy glow that managed to be visible even with how dark out it was outside.

“The things you said a while ago,” he began, some hesitance still remaining as his thumb glided over your ring, “sounded really convincing.”

You wouldn’t meet his eyes. For a few seconds the both of you kept silent, until you finally broke it off, “maybe I wasn’t lying in the first place.”

He stiffened, pausing his previous ministrations as you continued, “… were you?”

Looking back at the past week, he almost laughed. Other than already being in a relationship, was anything between the two of you ever a lie to begin with?

“I wasn’t, either,” he replied. Taking in a deep breath, your gaze finally locked with his, he took the next step.

“If… if I promise to always be there for you, to hold your hand, help you fight your battles, and shield you from attacks… would you have me?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for the 2 lovely tumblr anons who requested I make an Itaru fake dating fic after I wrote the Tsuzuru one~ what better time to post an Itaru fic than during his event in EN?


	18. homare | when i fall in love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which homare sings to reader  
> ⤷ gender-neutral reader  
> ⤷ not director reader  
> ⤷ SFW

Contrary to popular belief, Homare wasn’t always yawping on and on about poetry and his poetic genius. There were times where he was more quiet, muttering pretty little words to himself as he hunched over his desk, the sound of pen against paper filling the room.

Depending on when inspiration struck or how close he was to his deadlines, there were times he’d keep writing for hours, late into the night as his lover waited for him in bed.

There were times he’d finish up for the night early enough, you and all of your gentleness welcoming him with open arms;

other times, too, he’d turn around to check up on you only to find you already fast asleep, the rise and fall of your chest filling him with an inexplicable amount of warmth. Later on, with heavy eyes, tired as the words he stared at began to swirl he would clock out for the night and gently settle down beside you, the familiarity of your skin brushed against his and the scent of your shampoo rendering him asleep quickly.

With the deadline his editor set approaching within days, tonight was one of those nights where his lamp would be turned on, the warm, white light illuminating his desk. For the longest time, you’d insisted he just keep the lights on, knowing his vision already wasn’t the best anyway, but he’d insisted on compromising with a lamp so you could fall asleep a little more comfortably.

Normally you found it easy to doze off the nights your partner would stay up later than usual— he was filled to the brim with enthusiasm, making sure everything was cozy for you be it setting the air conditioner a certain temperature or providing you with as much pillows and blankets as you wanted.

When all else failed, listening to Homare murmuring his poems to himself eased you into slumber, and though he didn’t face you it still felt like he was reciting them to you, _dedicating_ them to you— and in the back of your mind, you somehow knew the more romantic and flowery poems had a sprinkle of your romance within.

You’d often told him how much you loved listening to his voice, be it from the random bursts of poetic inspiration he’d get or the theatricality they held as he stood on stage; the little hums and mumbles he made while he was focused was no exception.

It was never something you bothered to keep secret from him, and as expected he had replied pretty delightfully with a confident laugh.

Since then, you realised he made less of a conscious effort to stay quiet, or perhaps he’d purposefully read his newer works out loud to help lull you to sleep— you weren’t sure of either one, but nonetheless you were grateful.

You shut your eyes hoping to focus on his poem, yet even as he spoke of how love was like a freshly picked rose your mind continued to race with all sorts of things to distract you. As you restlessly moved around the bed, the rustle of the sheets prompted the magenta-haired man to check his watch.

“Beloved? The clock has already struck twelve, and yet you’re still awake?” His red eyes glanced over your figure, stopping as he made eye contact with you. Your eyes were half shut like a tulip about to close for the night, yet never fully making it as though the sunset lasted forever.

“I can’t sleep,” you replied, voice a little hoarse from not using it for a few hours. You watch as Homare stood up, pen and notebook left on the table as he walked over to you.

“Do you want me to tell you a poem?” He asked, sitting down on the mattress as he gazed down at you lovingly. “I could recite some of your favourites, or perhaps one of my latest masterpieces?”

You declined his offer with a smile of uncertainty, “I don’t think it’s gonna help this time. I can usually fall asleep quickly listening to you, but…”

He closed his eyes, humming as he thought of a way to help you. If his voice always eased you, but if even his poems couldn’t bring you to the brink of slumber, then…

“Close your eyes, my beloved,” he whispered.

You complied, wondering what he had planned as he cleared his throat. With an exhale of breath just as quick as he drew it in, the rest of what escaped his lips became an unexpected outcome.

> _When I fall in love_
> 
> _It will be forever_
> 
> _Or I’ll never fall in love_

As he sang, you found yourself blinking up at him, unable to stop yourself from returning his affectionate gaze. Soon, loving glances turned short and shorter as your eyelashes began to flutter, eyes a lot droopier now than they had been in the past hours.

The last thing you feel before dozing off is the gentle press of Homare’s lips against yours.

> _In a restless world like this is_
> 
> _Love is ended before it’s begun_
> 
> _And too many moonlight kisses_
> 
> _Seem to cool in the warmth of the sun_

He couldn’t help himself from staring.

The snow white blankets and sheets layered atop and beneath you, engulfing you with their heat as you rested your head atop a fluffy pillow… he could only compare you to no less than an angel resting on a cloud.

> _When I give my heart it will be completely_
> 
> _Or I'll never give my heart_
> 
> _And the moment I can feel that you feel that way too_
> 
> _Is when I fall in love with you_

Magical. Enchanting. Ethereal.

Inspiring.

There were many words, and phrases he could use to describe you. That had always held true from the moment he met you— it was one of the things that drew him to you, after all, how often new ideas burst to life in his head because of your very existence.

Even now, he wanted to get up and write a minimum of five— maybe even _ten_ — poems about you, his beloved; yet he lowered himself fully onto the bed until he was fully stretched out and laying down. Right now, all he wanted to do was be by your side until he, too, fell asleep.

For as long as you were with him, there were many opportunities to write about you. It could wait until the sun rose again.

> _And the moment I can feel that you feel that way too_
> 
> _Is when I fall in love with you_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> got the inspiration to fulfill this request in one sitting after listening to a piano cover of the song "when i fall in love"


	19. sakyo | unpleasant feelings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which sakyo acknowledges and overcomes his jealousy  
> ⤷ gender-neutral reader  
> ⤷ SFW

Sakyo was no stranger to sin. Some he’d call no more than acquaintances, through fleeting thoughts or met through others’ lenses; others, he’d call old friends— some who still come to visit his abode.

 ** _Tristitia_** , in his moments of sorrow, for all he had lost, and in his state of despondency he figured that, perhaps, all hope was futile.

 ** _Ira_** , in his moments of anger, hot and burning like a volcano, and as he escaped dormancy and erupts into a shout all he can see is red, until fury gets cast aside to be found another day.

 ** _Superbia_** , in the moments his pride got in the way of saying what he really meant, what he really felt, like a viper making its way to constrict his neck, the right words failing to escape him.

They were _oh so familiar_ to him, yet there was always a guest he’d refuse to entertain— **_Invidia_**.

For what was there to be jealous of? At most, he’d say he was protective over you. While he trusted that you could take care of yourself most of the time, he wasn’t so blind to the dangers of the world, whether it be someone he didn’t know or someone from his line of work possibly plotting to cause you harm.

Besides, unwelcome thoughts had always been easy to set aside in favour of the present— the trust and love unlike any other that he shared with you and you alone.

Shared glances, subtle brushes, warm embraces, brief kisses— those were enough to keep him grounded in reality, and soon enough the jealousy subsides… but it doesn’t dissipate.

Sometimes, you can’t have one sin without the other.

* * *

He knew he should be satisfied.

Underneath the dinner table, your feet would swing and bump against his legs as you told him about your day. The two of you were busy people, so he took solace in the daily tidbits you’d tell him. Beyond making sure nothing was troubling you, he liked hearing even the most mundane things like what work you got done, what you ate for lunch, you running into your ex—

You clearly don’t think it’s that important, the way you keep your eyes on your meal as you begin to move on to the next topic, but the unusually loud sound of Sakyo’s spoon clang against the bowl halts whatever words were going to leave you next.

You looked at him with concern, and though your gazes meet there’s something he’s trying to hide. You know it, and he knows you know it too— for how long you’ve known each other, you were able to detect even the smallest flickers of a mood change.

“Sakyo, are you okay?”

Patiently, you waited for his reply. You continued to stare at him; though there was no judgement or doubt present, he couldn’t help but hide some details. Not a lie, just a mask using his preexisting protectiveness to hide unwanted emotions.

“He didn’t try to pull anything funny, right?” Sakyo asked, “I know you can handle yourself, but I just want to make sure.”

You let out a small laugh and shook your head.

“We ended on good terms,” you insisted, “he just asked me how I’ve been, I did the same, then we went our separate ways.”

A familiar weight came to rest on his hand atop on the table, the circling of your pads against his skin allowing his insecurities to sink back to the depths where they came from.

You parted your lips, your hesitance obvious as you moved to close them again, before ultimately deciding to speak your mind. Your lilt is teasing, but your eyes showed him something that shook him.

“Are you jealous?”

“I trust you” was his immediate reply.

Neither affirmative nor negative, but you don’t push it further, deciding to grace him with a smile instead.

* * *

People said red was the colour of anger, but that wasn’t the case for Sakyo. He was not so hot-headed as to burst into flame the moment a guy got too close for his comfort, regardless of how harmless it was.

Sakyo’s anger was blue. Blue, the colour of the rough sea that wiped out everything should you be at the wrong place at the wrong time. Blue, like the centre of the flame that, left unattended, could burn everything to a crisp.

He bottled it up knowing that it was his arm wrapped around your shoulders and not the guy in front of you. It’s childish to feel this way, towards someone you obviously thought of as an old friend—

and yet his glare was like lightning on a stormy night.

“We’ll be late,”

and his voice was the rumble of thunder.

The immediate gratification he felt as the two of you walked away from that man irked him soon after. He was already over 30— who was he to be so petty and immature over something so trivial?

Had that man even looked at you a certain way or did he immediately choose to believe he would have?

“The play doesn’t start for one more hour,” you reminded him, “did you forget?”

He shook his head wordlessly.

“So I guess I was right,” you didn’t have to say what you were right about, only moving closer to him as you two continued walking.

* * *

Just as he enjoyed hearing about your daily life, he cherished hearing about your past too. Stories from your childhood, to how you were at high school, to the trouble you got caught up in during college.

Even though he wasn’t there with you during those times, it almost felt like he was with your vivid descriptions and enthusiastic storytelling.

“Sakyo, you look upset,”

but glimpses were all that he had. He knew it was wrong to feel upset over something so trifling, he’s here in your present, but then his insecurities resurface and were you happier then? He was jealous of those who knew you back then, in that time frame in which he wasn’t there.

“did I say something?”

He broke off from his musing, finding himself a bit regretful over the frequency of concern in your eyes lately.

Neither of you spoke for what must have been a couple or so minutes, merely neither of you breaking eye contact as you stared at each other— you on one side of the sofa and him on the other. Letting go of his hesitancy, his gaze tore away from yours as his confession tumbled down his lips,

“I’m jealous.”

Admitting to having this feeling he detested took a lot of courage and vulnerability out of him, but once he said it a significant weight over his shoulders lifted. It was rare for him to be so talkative, but all the same, navigating murky emotions were easier with his partner than alone.

No accusations, no defensiveness, just the unpleasant feelings he experienced.

“Thank you for trusting me,” you replied after he finished, scooting over to his side of the sofa as you brought him into an embrace he instinctively returned.

“I know there are times it can’t be controlled, but,” you pulled away momentarily, planting a brief kiss on Sakyo’s lips, “remember that you’re the one I’m in love with, and the one I will always choose to be with.”

He sends off his old friends with a farewell, for they have overstayed their welcome.

 _Tristitia_ , _Ira_ , _Superbia_ , _Invidia_.

After the four of them left, he couldn’t even take the time to dwell on their departure. Wouldn’t spare the time. After all, he was now welcoming guests much more pleasant and worth his time.

He returned your kiss with one of his own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i was reading about the history of the seven deadly sins when i learned that invidia (envy) was not originally part and was added later to the revised list in AD 590, and then this fic was born (and i was finally able to fulfill the sakyo jealousy request i've been pondering how to write)


	20. banri | pink hyacinth ✿

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which banri is a flower shop part-timer and has friendly competition between him and the reader  
> ⤷ gender-neutral reader  
> ⤷ not director reader  
> ⤷ SFW  
> ⤷ PART OF THE FLORIST AU ONE-SHOT COLLECTION *denoted by ✿ in the title*  
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> another florist AU one. I have a few more I haven't posted bc I haven't decided if I'm dumping them all here or a separate fic.

As the flower shop grew more popular, the more difficult it became for you and your boss to manage everything by yourselves. Even though it wasn’t the holiday season, the orders seemed to increase every week— plus, managing the till while making a last minute arrangement and simultaneously giving people flower recommendations? It was no easy feat, that was for sure.

“Let’s hire someone to work part time alongside you,” your boss finally decided one day as she flipped through the accounting ledger book, “it’s not always the both of us will be at the store at the same time. We need the extra help.”

You hummed in reply, not thinking much of it at the time as you continued taking inventory. As long as they weren’t overly cold to you, you couldn’t foresee any problems. Well, except for maybe one, _little_ thing.

“My salary won’t be lowered, right?”

* * *

You were expecting the new hire to be the stereotypical soft, sweet, fluffy looking person of whom grandmas would be drawn to. Instead, he was a guy wearing a purple, leopard-cheetah-whatever animal print bucket hat with a luxury brand logo right smack in the centre.

Aha, it really put the _statement_ in the term _statement_ _piece_. It certainly gave him a lot of _impact_.

You wanted to do something in between laughing and crying, but your boss probably wouldn’t appreciate either one. With some restraint, you introduced yourself with a bright smile, handing him a work apron you hoped was his size.

“If you ever need any help, just let me know,” you offered, leading him to the staff room so he could store his belongings somewhere ~~and take off that dumb hat~~. “It might take you a while to get used to some things, but I’m sure you’ll get a hang of it soon!”

“I’m a quick study, don’t worry.”

There was something about the way he phrased it that made you intrigued. He said it in a pretty nonchalant manner, even his expression remained relaxed, but the moment your eyes met his you found yourself growing excited. There was a certain glint there that you recognised pretty quickly, and you had a feeling he did, too.

“I think we’ll get along well, Banri-kun,” you said, grinning in anticipation of the next few weeks. It would be an undeniably nice break from the usual routine work brought upon you.

There’s a visible upwards stretch on his lips, too, and though he replied to you with a “who knows?” something in your gut told you the feeling was already reciprocated.

* * *

Settsu Banri wasn’t lying one bit when he told you he learned things fast. On his first day he took the time to observe you first, watching you go about the different tasks for the day— from how and for how long you watered each plant, to how you went about choosing flowers to add to a bouquet, to how you interacted with the customers and how you subtly managed to convince them that yes, they did need that new and slightly pricey fertiliser.

The way he was able to pick up on the way you did things pretty quickly was something to be envied. Although he still lacked a lot of the stock knowledge and experience you had, he easily made up for it with his skill in… literally everything else.

He wondered what your reaction would be— would you be pissed? That wasn’t really his intention but he was pretty self-aware that some people found that annoying. Though he wasn’t overly concerned of what people thought of him in the first place, it wouldn’t sit right with him either if his co-worker on one of his first jobs didn’t like him.

You stood behind him, your critical eye peering at the way he arranged his flowers. Pink ranunculus and hyacinth, as well as some other filler flowers, laid out atop the worktable. With his choice of an off white Kraft paper, the assortment of pink decorative sheets, and the silver lace ribbon, it was clear that he was a natural— or at least he had a good eye for colour scheme.

“All this fit the customer’s price range, yeah?” he asked. Truly, he already knew the answer. It was easy to estimate the amount of wrapping needed for a bouquet of that size, and the price labels per material made things even easier. He even skimmed the flower language guide printed out to make sure his flower choices were optimal.

In fact, the real question he meant to ask wasn’t even whether it fit the budget or not.

Despite his confidence, he turned his head around if only to gauge your facial expression. You stood still in your spot for a few seconds; then you quietly moved from your station behind his back to beside him, your arm brushing against his as you took a closer look. He didn’t tense up from the contact, but he’s not completely numb to the sudden closeness, either.

Though he was planning on it already, his awareness of you definitely grew as he watched your reactions from the corner of his eye.

A normal person would’ve taken one look and end up deciding then and there if it was nice or not, but as he watched the narrow of your eyes and the way the pads of your fingers felt the texture of papers he knew not a single detail was going amiss with you.

He could respect that. There was something pretty admirable about someone completely dedicated to their craft.

“Yeah,” you replied, “right down to the choice of going for a thicker ribbon instead of something thinner. It’ll turn out pretty,”

As he was about to soak up your praise and reply in stride, you ended up surprising him as you followed up with another comment.

“Though I think your flower choice could be… _better_ ,” you commented coolly.

With an eyebrow raised, he couldn’t find it in himself to be offended at all— just plain curious in what you have to say.

“The customer asked for a non-rose bouquet to tell someone they’ve fallen for them because they’re so charming, so ranunculus and hyacinths best fit the criteria,” he explained, curious of how you’d critique his decision.

“The ranunculus _was_ a good choice, but lowkey makes the guy seem shallow?” you pointed out, a shrug soon following. “Also, I wouldn’t go for pink hyacinth— the bouquet ends up implying the guy’s just playing around with the girl. If you went with blue, it’d show that he’s sincere about his feelings.”

Banri let out a little exhale of breath, crossing his arms as he leaned against the table to look at you properly. “Sense, doubt whoever’s getting this is gonna go as hard analysing as you though.”

You rolled your eyes before mirroring his actions, “You never know with these things, but… maybe you’re just upset you didn’t make the perfect choice?”

He huffed, but a smirk rose to his face just as yours did. Were you challenging him? He can’t say he particularly hates it, not when he’s steadily growing more and more interested in you.

“And maybe you’re just paranoid I’ll catch up to your skill level quickly,” he teased, amused when you don’t back down from his provocation. He initially wasn’t serious about it, but if you were down— “I’m sure I can make you admit to my skills in a span of a week, maybe even tomorrow.”

“Oh I’m too nice for that, I’ll give you the rest of the week to make it easier on you,” you cooed playfully, before ultimately coming to a conclusion, “wanna bet?”

“With what?

Your eyes flitted away elsewhere, looking a little too pensive for such a trivial matter. “I mean, I’m broke, but just betting for the sake of pride is boring…” you trailed off, and Banri couldn’t help but helpfully supply his two cents.

“Don’t people in shows usually ask for a favour or some shit with these kinds of things?”

You stared at him blankly. “I… I get what you mean, but not gonna lie, using the word favour makes it sound wrong—“

“Oi oi,” Banri interrupted, “don’t make me out to be some kind of fuckboy.”

“Sorry, sorry,” you let out a laugh that was light, laced with a hum of amusement at the matter, “but like, we don’t have to decide on anything now? Let’s just go with the flow. I’m sure I’ll eventually think of the reward I’ll get~”

“ _That_ confident?”

You shrugged, “not really, just optimistic… _so_ , you game?”

* * *

Honestly, neither of you even set any rules or guidelines for your little competition; it was just a matter of you having fun competing with Banri over numerous things.

Who could convince more people to purchase gardening products they may or may not actually need were hesitating on buying (6-9 in Banri’s favour).

Who could recommend the better flowers (8-4 in your favour).

Who could compute and double check accounting and inventory faster (5-6, you told yourself you’re making it even today).

Who could create the better bouquet arrangement (somehow, a tie. Even with his fashion sense, he was pretty good at coordinating colours and patterns. You _did_ have to stop him from using two animal print papers in one go, though).

Occasionally your boss would walk in the two of you bantering and critiquing each other’s work. At first, you worried she’d tell off the both of you (or maybe just you, since you were technically Banri’s senior in terms of experience), but she deemed it as ‘productive noise’ and let the two of you continue, even chiming in with her own opinions from time to time.

With her encouragement, neither of you held back.

“ _Oh_ , you accidentally cut too much ribbon— what a waste,” and “you missed a row in your calculation. Let me show you,” were amongst the common statements you said to each other.

A work relationship that was neither vile nor overly friendly, teasing at very least and strangely productive at most. You were quite satisfied with this turn out, a good way to stave off the boredom work could bring, but life had other things in store for the two of you.

Beyond either of your expectations, your dynamic would soon enough evolve into something beyond little comments exchanged between one another and one-upping each other.

* * *

There were always hints that beneath both of your competitiveness, there was a lot of thoughtfulness as well. Helping each other out under the guise of “showing them how it’s done”, or “I can do it faster”. Neither of you ever expressed it out loud, but gratefulness didn’t have to be said to be known.

It became less about playfully competing and more about just enjoying each other’s company in your own way.

“ _Hahh_ … it’s finally over!” you exclaimed, plopping down on a chair as you began fanning yourself with the closest piece of paper you could pick up. Even in the air-conditioned room, you found yourself sweating, your body unused to the physical exertion normally not demanded of you during work. Even your co-worker seemed exhausted— if the grunting noise he made was to be taken as a telltale sign.

Banri strode over beside you, looking just as exasperated as you felt.

“What kind of dumbass—“

“—decides to buy a bunch of pots,” you continued, halting your fanning motions as your fingers began aching again, “in the evening? What the fuck would you do with 12 plant pots?”

“‘xactly? Shit, didn’t realise those clay pots were gonna be that heavy…” Banri said, your eyes immediately drawn to his fingers. Ahh, he did end up doing most of the heavy labour.

“We didn’t even have to charm anyone into buying things this time,” you commented, before moving to the real thing you wanted to ask about, “by the way… are your hands okay?”

“This much?” he put his palms up, “is nothing~ had a lot worse.”

You don’t say anything in reply, merely staring at the small blemishes newly formed. It was minimal, pretty much shallow scratches, but it was there.

“Y’worried, babe?”

It was a slip of the tongue on his part, but neither of you seemed to mind. It rolled off pretty smoothly, and if asked about it he could easily say it was just a joke between the two of you— a little ‘affection’ to show how close you’ve gotten as friends.

Well, he thought, it wouldn’t be that much of a lie.

“No, not really,” you replied, mind too carried away elsewhere to pay any mind to the new pet name, “but you should still put on a band-aid or something.”

“Already said I was fine,” Banri replied, his eyes following your sudden upright movement as you headed inside the staff room. As he took the initiative to finish cleaning up so you two could head out for the night, the sight of you coming back out empty-handed had him befuddled.

“What’d ya even do in there?”

“So apparently we don’t have any stocked up,” you explained, quickly doing one last glance at today’s revenue, “so let’s stop by the convenience store later to get some… seriously, what if one of us gets pricked by a plant or something?”

If he decided to be honest, he would’ve told you that he already had one in his bag. A certain mother hen had forced him, Taichi, and Hyodo to carry one around and he’d learned a long time ago to not resist Omi over trivial things.

Still… it _was_ pretty cute how you impulsively decided to go buy something because of him. There was no harm in hiding something to see this side of you more, right?

“Y’want me to come with?” he asked.

You turned around to give him a look. “Obviously? Then there’d be no point of buying it tonight rather than tomorrow.”

“Then take inventory faster… or do ya need my help for that, too?”

“Banri-kun~ you totally forgot to water the hyacinths, or do you need my help for that, too?”

Both of your comments are left hanging in the air, an, oddly enough, peaceful silence encompassing the room until,

“Might as well walk you home after this,” you turned around to face him in surprise, “it’s getting pretty late.”

“Already taking me home without even buying me dinner?”

“We’re going to the convenience store anyway, I’ll buy you something, whatever cold sandwich or fruit cup salad you want— my treat,” he joked, peals of laughter bursting from deep within as your eyebrows furrowed in incredulousness.

You rolled your eyes at him, but the smile on your lips betrayed your undeniable amusement. “Awww so sweet of you, but I can’t have you one-up me there. I’ll buy you the themed plasters— how does having hello kitty’s face around your fingers sound?” you retorted, easing yourself into laughter as well.

As the two of you walked along the sidewalk, side by side, you couldn’t help yourself from saying what’s been on your mind for the past week or so now.

“What we have is nice.”

Banri released a small huff, the corners of his lips stretching upwards. Even with its vagueness, the meaning rang clear.

“Yeah, I like what we have too.”

There was no need to rush into anything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 【 hyacinth 】 games and sports, rashness  
> 【 pink hyacinth 】 play


	21. yuki | that’s pretty knit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which reader decides to knit a scarf for yuki  
> ⤷ gender-neutral reader  
> ⤷ not director reader  
> ⤷ SFW

Perhaps you spent too much time at the nearest arts and crafts store. For a dozen or so minutes you stood in one spot, unmoving unless someone needed to pass by you, your eyes flitting up and down, left and right as you debated over the different assortments of yarn.

You already had an inkling the different colours would overwhelm you— with so many different colours and different shades each, how could you possibly limit yourself to just one? You didn’t expect to be this troubled with choosing among different yarn weights, too. Why did the store give you 7 different choices? How were you supposed to know if choosing light yarn was better than choosing bulky yarn?

… you seriously should have done more research, but the prospect of _finally_ having free time to visit the shop overshadowed any semblance of rationality you previously possessed.

Look at you now.

Alright, Plan A— scope out the area for the friendliest looking employee and muster up the courage to ask for help, plain and simple.

Except things don’t always go as planned.

When you hear your name come from a voice behind you, it was impossible not to figure out who it was that caught you. You’re just _a little bit_ upset and _a little bit_ tense because of all people to come across at this moment, it _had_ to be Yuki? It’s not that you dislike him, rather it’s because the opposite is true that you found yourself more pressed than you should be.

It was like buying a surprise gift for someone and that exact someone seeing you buy that gift… actually, that was pretty much the situation— the only differing variable being that the gift hasn’t even been created yet.

Seriously, you just had to come across the very person you were planning on making something for?

“Yuki-kun! What are you doing here?”

He gave you a blank stare, as if waiting for you to realise how dumb your question was. Rurikawa Yuki? In a _crafts_ store? Unless you wanted something specific, the answer should have been plenty obvious.

“Hah? I want to buy materials to make clothes, _obviously_ ,” he replied, tilting his head to gesture towards his shopping basket filled with various beads, lace, and… were those feathers? Was he just replenishing stock and were those all for one outfit? Curiosity was getting the better of you, mouth already poised to ask a follow-up question before he interrupted you.

“Shouldn’t I be the one asking you?”

To any deities out there, grant you a smidge of acting prowess, or at the very least the ability to make some half-truths and get away with it.

You awkwardly let out a laugh, your eyes leaving Yuki as they dragged themselves back towards the shelves.

“I’m supposed to make a scarf for someone,” an omission of information, but technically the truth, “but I don’t know which yarn to pick?”

For a few seconds Yuki stared at you with narrowed eyes, ultimately letting out a sigh as he placed his own items on the tiled floor, facing the same direction as you.

“Any colour you want?”

Taking the opportunity to resolve one of your main problems, you quickly told him that he could choose any colour he wanted. Haha, you were so slick getting Yuki to choose the material he’d like the most. If you somehow screwed up the knitting process, at least he’d like the colour, right?

“Didn’t you do any research?” Yuki asked, sifting through the pale pink yarns to look for the appropriate weight.

“Not really,” you admitted sheepishly, “I mean, I just saw the steps were easy enough and decided to give it a try.”

“I-di-ot~” he said in a sing-song voice, but despite the nickname you knew there was underlying affection there somewhere, “one skein of super-bulky yarn would be the easiest to work with, then you probably need a crochet hook and 9 mm knitting needles too…”

You follow the green-haired boy as he moves to a different aisle, picking up the supplies you inevitably would have had trouble choosing between.

“Really, you could have just asked me, if you’re so clueless. I’d help you out.”

“No way!” you suddenly exclaimed, earning yourself front row tickets to Yuki’s look of confusion, “I can do it myself!”

You hoped your sudden outburst didn’t come off as rude, but he seemed to just push the matter away nonchalantly.

“Suddenly getting so loud, what’s with you…” he muttered, dropping the things he picked up for you atop your waiting hands, “but that’s fine. The scarf won’t be as cute as if I helped you, but maybe it’ll turn out decent at least.”

You clutched the materials to your chest, already anticipating being able to prove Yuki wrong. How would he react the moment he knew the person you were knitting something for was him?

“I’ll show it to you when I’m done!” you promised, “I need your seal of approval, after all!”

He’d probably point out any issues regardless, so you just had to make sure you did your absolute best!

* * *

Knitting took a lot more effort than you anticipated. First of all, you had to do something called a cast on around the needle? Apparently the wrap cast on was great for beginners, but you weren’t gonna lie— it _did_ take you one whole article from some “The Queen of Yarn” blogspot and one 5 minute YouTube tutorial just to make sure you were on the right track.

 **One**. **_Slip knot_** _: loop the yarn around your fingers clockwise, the yarn attached to the ball going under the loop, slid off your fingers and slipped onto the needle._

It wasn’t that the steps were particularly difficult. Rather, it was constantly making sure you weren’t accidentally skipping any steps or areas due to not paying too much attention.

 **Two.** _**Open the loop to make a stitch:** hold the empty needle with your dominant hand, and the needle with the slip knot in the other. Slip the empty needle into the first loop— from front to back._

Still, it was difficult to stop your thoughts from wandering— perhaps you should have chosen to listen to some kind of tea spill or podcast or comedy routine or anything with words instead of the LoFi ChillHop live stream playing from your phone. You were going to give Yuki a scarf— then what?

 **Three.** _**Wrap the yarn:** go counter-clockwise, the working yarn sliding between both of the needles._

You had a crush on Yuki, plain and simple, but it’d be embarrassing to just admit it! The amount of courage you had still needed replenishing, what with the amount you used up to just go up to him and try befriending him a couple of months back. What if you confessed, and he decided not only was your scarf ugly, he wouldn’t be friends with you anymore as well?

 **Four.** _**Turn the stitch** : slide the dominant-hand needle from the back to the front of the other needle._

But would it be enough to just pass off the garment as a, “thank you for being my friend” gift? Especially when there was no real occasion, and the hours you put in into making him something— would he question it?

 **Five.** _**Finish the stitch:** slide the dominant-hand needle up so that the first loop on the other needle slides off. Move on to the next loop, do the same thing, repeating until you are out of stitches._

Well, even with all of Yuki’s bluntness, he was still kind so he’d probably still be your friend! It’d still really hurt if he rejected you though, so maybe you should put off implying anything more than platonic between you two for… a while. Maybe it was too soon?

Looking at the progress you made, you were unable to hold in a groan of defeat. The pale pink yarn against the bamboo needle looked pretty and neat; there was an issue though.

One row. You were only able to do _one row_ so far.

Your phone clock said it was still pretty early into the afternoon. Well, a few more hours wouldn’t hurt anything ~~except your hands~~ , right?

* * *

A hand therapy site told you that pain brought by needle work was probably due to repetition of motion, bad posture, and or general fatigue. Not gonna lie, you probably fit into all three— the last one maybe more so than others.

How long one took to knit varied— some dedicating days, while others were able to crank out 5 scarves a day. A part of you was proud to be able to procure something presentable and wearable in one sitting.

…

You’re just choosing to omit the fact that that one sitting lasted until 3 am, but what Yuki doesn’t know? Won’t hurt him.

Thanking your singular brain cell right now that you decided to do this project over the weekend instead of during a school day— you’re unsure if you’d even be able to survive at all if you actually had to do maths and stuff the day after.

Deciding to just go with the flow, you found yourself folding the scarf as neatly as you could, gingerly placing it inside a paper bag. After all, you agreed to “have him judge” your creation today.

  


In all honesty, you thought you had built up the confidence to confess your crush to Yuki. If he reciprocated, good for you! If he didn’t, well, either you take it cooly or go ‘I said I liked you as a friend thing, silly!”

Standing in front of him though, his orange eyes scrutinising the pale pink scarf, made you lose your words, hesitation standing in its stead.

“Garter stitch…”

“What do you think, Yuki-kun?” you asked, peering at the green haired boy curiously as you impatiently awaited his verdict.

“I’m honestly surprised you made something nice,”

“Hey—“

“But for beginner, it’s pretty good,” he complimented, “actually, I can see myself wearing it when it gets colder—“

Even with such simple words, you felt your heart swell in happiness. Not only did he say he liked it, but he even went as far as to say he’d wear it? There were so many ways to get your gratitude across, to tell Yuki your true intentions in ‘asking for his approval’.With all of your options, you went with

“If you like it, it’s yours!”

“Hey, _you_ …”

He looked like he didn’t know how to respond. Actually, you can relate to that because even you’re befuddled by your wording. Didn’t it make it seem like you gifted it to him as an afterthought?

“I mean, well that’s not what I meant,” you hurriedly followed up, “I wanted to give it to you from the start? I didn’t know if it’d be nice though so if you said it was ugly I would’ve hidden it from the world? You said you would wear it though so—“

“This won’t do…” Yuki replied, interrupting your impending rambling. Before you could ask him what he meant, he pulls your hand to lead you inside the dormitories.

Unbeknownst to you, pink the same shade of your... _his_ scarf painted his cheeks. If only the weather was fit for the garment you gave, he’d be able to blame the sudden colour on the cold.

“Come on, I need to get your measurements.”

It was difficult to keep the silly grin off of your face afterward.


	22. tsuzuru | escape room

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which tsuzuru and his s/o go out on an escape room date... plus handcuffs and other chaos.  
> ⤷ gender-neutral reader  
> ⤷ not director reader  
> ⤷ SFW

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> inspired by latest tsuzuru sr card w/ the handcuffs + my love for escape rooms... hope you don't mind the supplementary images too much ><

One of the perks of having Tsuzuru as a boyfriend was that the two of you always found ways to have fun and go out on dates without spending a lot of money. Neither of you were big on splurging out a bunch of money anyway— not with you rather spending your allowance on necessities and Tsuzuru being the King of Part-timers™.

Watching community and college plays, having picnics, movie marathons, making dinner together, going grocery shopping, taking advantage of coupon sites, couples promos and happy hours to get great deals on things you wouldn’t normally be able to just for the ultimate discount…

It was domestic, it was homey, and it was _Tsuzuru_ through and through; you loved every single second of it.

Which was why you were surprised when he suggested going to an escape room together.

“Those can be kind of pricey, right?” you replied, raising your voice slightly to make sure he could hear you despite the noise you were making in the kitchen. You turned the burner to high heat, scooching the veggies over to one side of the pan, melting the remaining butter in the other half.

“Oh, well, a friend gave me a 20% discount coupon. Apparently he didn’t need it anymore,” Tsuzuru’s voice was a little quiet coming from your phone’s speaker, and you quickly put down the soy sauce to adjust the volume before going back to the stove.

“I figured there was some kind of catch,” you replied with a soft chuckle as you continued stirring the veggies and sautéing the rice. “When do you wanna go? I know we’re both busy over the weekend, and that’s when we usually—“

Your hand halted its motions as soon as Tsuzuru uttered the word, “ _tomorrow_.”

It wasn’t like you weren’t free, thankfully you only had one, albeit three hour, lecture during Tuesdays, but wasn’t he saying it a bit suddenly? It was a Monday evening, after all.

“Why tomorrow?”

Your boyfriend’s awkward laughter rang, but he remained undeterred as he explained to you his reasoning— going to an escape room would be a good way to get more writing experience, especially in terms of creating and feeling the ambience.

“Plus, not only is it cheaper if we go together, but the rates are also lower Monday to Thursday,” after a few seconds of silence on your part, he quickly added in, “ _and! And,_ we usually don’t have dates like this… so it’ll be fun, right?”

That thought process was _so_ like Tsuzuru that you couldn’t help but smile.

Oh, the rice and veggies were already turning brown?

“You know what? I’m not even surprised,” you commented, adding and stirring in the rest of the ingredients. _Ahhh_ , it was starting to smell heavenly, “by the way, have you had dinner yet?”

“About to. Excited to figure out what kind of curry we’re having,” a giggle escaped you upon hearing Tsuzuru’s deadpan voice, “are you almost done cooking?”

“Just about done!” after giving the rice a taste, you decided to season it with a pinch of salt and pepper, “thanks for giving me your fried rice recipe, by the way. Even though I’m the one cooking it, it feels like I’m about to eat something you made with love~”

As you were pretty much done with the kitchen, Tsuzuru’s exhale was a lot more audible to you. You could already envision the slight quiver in his tight-lipped grin and the way he would avert his eyes for a few seconds as he addressed you.

“Seriously, don’t be so cute,” he said, sounding a little exasperated, “ _sometimes I don’t know how to respond anymore._ ”

“A writer at a loss for words?” it was steadily getting difficult to keep the bubbling up amusement in check— you should probably be serving yourself dinner and accomplish your work for the night, but in the same manner it was always fun to flirt with the brunet. “When you put it _that_ way, it makes me want to act even cuter for y—“

“ _Anyway!_ ” you couldn’t hold back your laughter at his sudden interruption. Alright, that was enough for the both of you tonight.

“So are you free tomorrow?” he asked.

Well, who were you to be able to say no to that?

* * *

You completed signing the waiver the staff asked you to fill out, before turning to Tsuzuru.

“I forgot to ask, but which room are we playing? They have, like, 3 different ones here.”

Your eyes followed where Tsuzuru’s pointer finger landed— a simple but eerie poster in black and white, the three masks you could commonly see in craft stores plain and copies of one another, save for one thing. The first mask had gloved hands atop its eyeholes, the second had them covering where the ears would be, and the third had them placed over the lips.

_Domain of Discernment._

“I don’t know much about it, but it’s one of the more popular ones. Apparently we’ll be held captive by some serial killer named _Sire Maniac_ , and we’ll have one of our senses taken away,” he explained. Before he could potentially say anymore, one of the personnel went over to bring you right by the room entrance.

After giving a brief rundown of rules and some info about the room itself, she brought out an unused pair of foam earplugs and a blindfold. “Since there’s only two of you, we’ll be taking out the not being able to speak part. Both of you, choose who gets their sight or hearing removed for 50 minutes.”

You and Tsuzuru turned to look at each other, quietly discussing amongst yourselves which option would be more beneficial, coming to the conclusion that you would be the one to don the blindfold and he’d be the one with the earplugs.

“You might accidentally fall asleep if you had the blindfold,” you joked, “besides, I trust you to be able to guide me.”

Not one to be a killjoy or cheat, he plugged in the foam properly as you get your blindfold tied securely by the woman, making sure it definitely wouldn’t loosen up midway through the game.

When the both of you are within the room already, the both of you hear (well, Tsuzuru lip-reads) the woman say one more thing.

“After hand-cuffing you two and I leave the room, the timer will start. Good luck.”

_… hand-cuffing?_

With a sound of a click and seeing the door shutting from the distance, the both of you knew the timer would be counting down from 50 right about now.

You’re the first to speak up. You’re unsure where he’s facing right now, so you pulled your left hand knowing the pull of the metal chain would catch his attention, and you were right.

At the slight pressure on his right hand, he turned to face you with a hum leaving his mouth, and unexpectedly finding himself stupefied at the sight of you. You opened your mouth to say something, and he can excuse himself all he wanted that it was him not used to lip-reading yet, but he knew it wasn’t the truth.

He felt ~~a little~~ guilty, really. You both knew how flustered or embarrassed he could get around you, but how blissfully unaware you must be right now that his brain was literally mush because of your blindfolded self and how you were handcuffed to him. He, well, he never thought… no, he could never—

Time to kill that train of thought. _Right now._

He should really be responding to you right now. What… what were you saying?

“You want me to describe our… surroundings?” he sighed in relief as you nodded. Okay, at least a part of him was still functioning properly. All he had to do was focus on that and not hyper focus on you.

The two of you were in a cell of sorts— barred, jail doors preventing your exit into a much larger room, which inevitably would lead to a door the both of you would escape to.

Though the jail room was significantly smaller, there were an assortment of items to sift and look through— boxes with and without locks, some papers scattered on a small desk, a lampshade that was left turned off, and a CD player were what stood out the most to him.

After relaying it to you, you pulled him again by your shared shackles as you asked him to read out what was in the papers—the first, a hint on how to figure out the number combination to unlock one of the boxes and a code decryption guide.

The second, a torn page from a “book” of either plants or poisons, based on the content and stylisation. _Atropa belladonna_ , also known as deadly nightshade.

“Why are shade and floor highlighted though?”

Another pull on the cuffs. Another look at you— _and trying not to be awkward about it_ as he combined his lip-reading with whatever the earplugs couldn’t block out of your voice.

“Shade? You said there was a lamp shade, right? Maybe a key or something is hidden under there?” you suggested, a pout set on your lips, “don’t know what the relevance of floor is, though.”

He didn’t have to look very far, the papers being situated on the desk beside the lampshade. It’s in his second time staring though that he realised something’s off with it. “You’re right, there’s something in the lampshade.”

When he lifted the bell-shaped cover, he’d come to find that there was no lightbulb in the first place, but a thin flashlight cleverly inserted within a vase. “If there’s a flashlight in the vase, then—“

“Shine a light on the floor!” you exclaimed, excited at the prospect of being able to move forward with the game, despite not being able to see.

Doing just that, he swished the flashlight left and right, verbally listing all the letters he could see.

“X, O, I, C, T…” you repeated, before trying to clap your hands (keyword: trying to, handcuffs say no), “the order is toxic! So the encrypt—“

“I’ll decode it ASAP,” Tsuzuru replied, immediately referring to the guide the “killer” oh so graciously left there.

“The passcode is… 420652,” he fumbled with the digits on the only 6 numbered padlocked box, before grinning, “alright, we got it!”

Another tug, and at this point he’s already aware that tug or pull on the cuff equals you having something to say.

“If they were gonna do a 420 joke, they should’ve inserted a 666 joke for the full eerie, creepy effect.”

Okay, just _how_ was he able to lip read _that_ perfectly? Was he just that used to the dumb jokes you made?

“I can just imagine your dream escape room— all the hints and puzzles are meme related,” the earplugs were unable to block your laugh, ringing through the room as he opened the box. A key, and a CD.

Knowing that between the two remaining boxes left, one of them needed a key so that was pretty much solved. The disc, on the other hand…

He called your name, you turning to face him based on the direction of his voice. “Since there’s a CD player and a CD, and unless I go really close I wouldn’t be able to hear anything—“

“I’ll listen carefully, no sweat!”

* * *

“I swear, if I hear the word _wall_ another time, I will _scream_ … and this isn’t even a horror room!”

The two of you came across your first real obstacle. Your audio just talked about poisonous vines growing on walls and other surfaces, while his box just contained another note that neither of you could decipher whatsoever. For five minutes, the two of you stood there, pondering.

Every once in awhile, Tsuzuru would check the giant timer— currently displaying that 35 minutes were left.

“… honestly, just give it to me,” you suddenly spoke, Tsuzuru’s shoulders going up in shock.

“Give what?”

“The box! While we try to figure it out, I’ll use my nonexistent luck to just guess the passcode somehow,” you explained, feeling up the type of padlock it was “it’s just rolling everything around anyway until it magically opens.”

Within less than a minute, you had figured out the passcode.

“ _I’m_ —“ Tsuzuru trailed off, clearly just as shocked as you were. Your eyes probably would’ve been wide open right now.

“ _Eye_ … so _this_ is where all my luck went,” you said, before shaking your head to refocus yourself, “okay! So inside the box is a… another key? It has buttons… car key?”

You hand the object to the brunet, who, upon taking it from you spared no second in his next actions.

“Wall,” he said out loud, pointing the car keys at the wall. With one press of a button, the wall, slowly but surely, opened to reveal another room. Though you couldn’t see it, the sound was loud enough to amaze you as well.

“ _Worm_ ,” you breathed out, “pretty lit, not gonna lie.”

You wouldn’t know but the room was actually extremely dark, so not lit at all. Thank god he had a flashlight or else the handcuff + your blindfold + him not being able to lip-read combo would be… _particularly_ deadly.

The misunderstandings, he could already imagine it. Ah, well, _for the writing experience._

“I don’t know what worm means, but yeah, lit.”

* * *

“Sorry,” Tsuzuru apologised as he bumped into you for the nth time.

Obstacle number two was unlike any other. It wasn’t another audio recording, neither a puzzle nor riddle.

“Ah, shit, sorry!” you shouted for the nth time, raising your voice as much as you could so Tsuzuru would be able to hear you properly.

This was getting ridiculous. You were able to figure out the meaning of an audio file after a few loops, while Tsuzuru got to work reading more clues and unlocking locks. The real problem, however, was since the room was dark and had limited space, the two of you tended to crash against one another even with what limited movement you could make.

You had to wonder— did the staff get some sort of amusement or feel any pity watching people stumble around in this room through the CCTV? It wasn’t so bad in the jail room, but this closet? storage? room gave you two a run for your money. How did other people get through this room, genuinely? Especially the bigger parties?

“… I have an idea,” Tsuzuru mentioned. You wait for him to tell you what it is, his hesitance confusing you. However, before you could have said anything, you felt his strong arms wrapped around you.

Was… _was_ there an equivalent to a verbal keyboard smash? Even if you weren’t saying it out loud to save you the embarrassment, the fact still stood that your brain was legit going ztesxrdctijmoljhnge right now. _Help_ —

“How does this… help?” you asked, still a little confused by his motive. He wasn’t really one for PDA, and despite the two of you being the only ones in the room the fact still stood that the escape room staff are probably required to glance at the CCTV monitors every once in a while to check up on you two.

“Since we’re… handcuffed, and there’s barely any space it’d be better to just stay together,” he explained as nonchalantly as possible, “sorry, it’s just for this room. We’ll go back to normal when we get to the last room.”

See, if your brain was _working_ right now, you’d be able to think of a counter or a better solution— actually, if you could see right now maybe you could point out something about Tsuzuru’s face that screamed he was lying, but something about escape rooms just made your logic go _brrr_.

That, or you were just a simp for your own boyfriend.

… not gonna lie, the chances of it being both were _pretty_ _high_.

“Makes sense. Can’t bump into each other when you’re already stuck together,” you said, already convincing yourself.

Sorry to whoever’s manning the CCTV monitor, it was their fault for handcuffing the two of you anyway.

Well, this set up wasn’t that bad. Other than, you know, getting to hug Tsuzuru, you were able to still keep doing your task while he did—

You heard the padlock unlock after your fingers pressed a certain combination of numbers. Pushing the device upwards, the cabinet doors opened as you removed the lock.

“It’s a digit push combination padlock! How are you doing this? Blindfolded?”

“I… I have guessing powers. For _locks_.”

“I’m considering robbing a bank or business with you now.”

“ _Awww_ , cute couple’s date idea!”

After two or three minutes of Tsuzuru doing some last minute riddle solving, the sound of jingling keys and him letting go of you let you know of one thing— you two were almost out.

* * *

With a writer compromising one half of the team, and an exceptional guesser and context clue figure-outer as the other half, you weren’t gonna lie— the last room was kind of anti-climatic to go through.

…

**SIKE!**

Every time the two of you ever accomplished anything, be it decrypting a message, unlocking something, or finding a hidden item the two of you still reacted to it— Tsuzuru being more on the _shookt_ side and you being on the _hype_ side.

With fifteen minutes to spare, only one thing was left to do— finding who Sire Maniac’s real name, and then decoding that name into number form so you could use it on the exit’s number pad lock. It was pretty obvious to you that you had to use the number equivalents of the name, but first… you needed to know the name.

“You _sure_ you don’t want to try your luck?” Tsuzuru teased, procuring a huff out of you.

There were only two clues. The first was a letter to an _A. R. Nicolas_ , detailing something about being thankful for a book.

Initially, the two of you thought that that A. R. Nicolas would be his real name, but clearly it was some sort of pen name based on the second clue— several torn pages from a book penned by the very same A. R. Nicolas the letter was addressed to.

It was clear— Sire Maniac and A. R. Nicolas were the same person, but what was his third identity? His _real_ identity?

“What are the poisons on the torn pages again? Those usually have something to do with the answer,” you asked Tsuzuru. The sound of shuffling of paper entered your ears as he began listing them off.

“Ricin, amatoxin, tetradotoxin, chloropicrin, batrachotoxin… and arsenic.”

“Huh… arsenic is the only one that ends differently, lol,” you pointed out with a laugh, before it quickly died as the realisation dawned on you, “ _no fucking way._ ”

“Okay what the hell, I think you’re on to something,” Tsuzuru replied hastily, “because A. R. Nicolas, as in A. R. Nic. Arsenic.”

“Tsuzuru. _Tsuzuru_. _**Tsuzuru**_ —“ you chanted, before laying out one last game-changer, “Sire Maniac. Is a fucking anagram. For _I am Arsenic_.”

With a speedy enter of the number 2773642, the two of you had achieved freedom.

* * *

“Not gonna lie, some parts of it were a little cliche, but… I had fun,” you told him, the two of you walking home together, “I felt simultaneously dumb and a genius at the same time.”

“Same to both, honestly,” Tsuzuru replied, before looking down at your hand linked with his. “Huh, haven’t you had enough of being stuck with me?”

You rolled your eyes. “I could say the same to you— didn’t you _totally_ take advantage of us being handcuffed together? Or me being blindfolded?”

It was just a joke, but Tsuzuru’s sudden sputtering caught you off guard. Did… aha, no way, did he actually _enjoy_ that gimmick?

“ _Tsu_ ~ _zu_ ~ _ru_ ~”

“Whatever you’re thinking, that’s not it—“

“Are you _sure_? Because—“

“You’re misunderstanding something.”

“I’m just saying, it’s better to be honest~”

As the stoplight turned red, the two of you finally found the time to take a good look at each other. The laughter that erupted was instantaneous.

“Thanks for going out with me today,” Tsuzuru said softly, the blooming smile on his face impossible for you to not mirror.

“Thank you for inviting me,” you replied, “ _I love you_.”

“ _I love you too_.”

After a few seconds, the stoplight turned green, and the two of you continue making your way back home.


	23. tenma | rival

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which tenma falls in love with his "rival" and everyone realises it before he does  
> ⤷ gender-neutral reader  
> ⤷ not director reader  
> ⤷ SFW

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much for over 400 kudos! i really appreciate all the support this collection of one-shots has gotten <3 every kudos, bookmark, and comment left by someone means so much to me! i'll continue to do my best to improve my writing!

If someone were to ask Tenma why he was stalking your Instablam right now, he’d be able to spout off various excuses— all with varying levels of believability.

His first excuse was that you were going to be one of his latest co-stars in a drama. Just because the both of you were going to be part of only a few episodes doesn’t mean he’s gonna stop being diligent. He’s just doing his best to be up to date with you and the other cast, for social reasons.

_Why is he so focused on your page, then?_

His second excuse would be that he’s only looking, following your account because you’re one of his rivals! Not only were you someone who also started acting at a young age, but you also recently started getting into theatre! Not only were you a threat to any possible awards he could get this season, but any notable troupe was a rival to Mankai for any possible competitions or awards! He’s only looking after the company by scoping out the competition!

_Why is he so focused on a specific set of images?_

His third excuse, actually still pretty believable, was that he was looking at your most recent posts wherein you were _clearly_ promoting a new play, your repost of the poster signifying that you were the lead. Rival or not, he was still interested in plays or musicals— of course he was going to learn more about the production you were going to be a part of, right?

_Why is he looking so intently at the caption and comments, then?_

Even in his own brain, this is where Tenma began fumbling. You were just supposed to be promoting, so why were you posting a selfie with another actor, even mentioning that same person in the caption? And- and the people in the comments! Why were they talking about “shipping” you and that guy? Comments about how cute of a couple you’d make… were they fake fans of theatre or something? People who were more engrossed with the actor’s lives than the show?

That’s exactly it… he’s repulsed by people’s audacity. Fan service was alright, but you shouldn’t be feeding your followers anything unnecessary— and why were they so adamant in taking things too far and out of context anyway?

The door creaked open, and he quickly locked his phone as he hastily stashed it underneath his pillow, face unknowingly painted with a blush as though he was hiding something scandalous instead of a picture of you doing finger hearts at the camera.

… thank God it was just Misumi, who doesn’t mention anything possibly wrong with his appearance or attitude. The older boy mentioned something about eating triangle cakes together with the rest of the troupe, and he eagerly replied in agreement as he gets up from bed.

In his head, Tenma justified his actions by telling himself it’d just be a hassle if anyone (note: Yuki or Kazunari) caught him and automatically made assumptions.

* * *

When Tenma arrived on set, you were exiting out of your car as well.

‘I should probably be friendly and greet them, right?’ he thought to himself as his body was positioning itself to avoid you instead. Unfortunately (or fortunately) for him, you had already spotted him and with a loud “Tenma-kun!”, his gaze was forced to meet with yours.

You made your way beside him with a blinding smile, not giving him the time to formulate a greeting in return as you began talking up a storm.

“I’m excited to work with you again!” you said, briefly pausing to greet his manager as well before turning back to him. “The last time we’ve worked together was for a drama 6 months ago, right?”

“No,” he corrected immediately, the ‘you idiot’ that would have followed thankfully left out by Tenma. “We filmed a commercial 3 months ago, and then we had a magazine spread last month.”

When you blink up at him in surprise, he found himself getting a little conscious. “It’s… it’s not like I memorised it because of you, though!” he said, beginning to explain himself, “obviously a good actor remembers the things they’re a part of, right?”

When you giggled in response, a part of him started to feel… no, not worried, but _something_.

“No, no, I totally get that!” you raised your arms up in surrender, “I just meant like an _actual_ acting gig, I guess? Nothing beats having a whole new script to learn, and getting to act with the people you _admire_. Right, Tenma-kun?”

Inclined to agree with you, he nodded in agreement. “Right…”

You looked at him with a blank stare on your face, like he was missing something (what was there for him to miss, though?) before quickly turning away to greet some of the production crew passing by with a wave and grin.

He, for once, managed to tune out the coos and comments of, “it’s so cute that they stayed friends after all these years!” and “aww look they even entered the set together!” in favour of wondering if there was something he said (or didn’t) that ended the conversation.

##  **…**

After filming finished for the day, he decided to lag behind instead of immediately leaving. He’s worked with a bunch of the cast beforehand, so it was a good thing to catch up with them.

“Mini Sumeragi,” one of his more… out there seniors, a friend of his father, began “are you gonna keep staring at _their_ dressing room?”

Freezing up, he mentally took note to stop darting his eyes in _that_ direction before anyone could make something out of it; it was too late, though, when the lead actress asked who occupied that room and several people replied your name in chorus.

“Ohoho~ our young boy is finally growing up,” the lead actor said with a grin, and the whole cast amusedly watched Tenma’s cool mask forming cracks.

“Could it be you’re waiting for them to go out? Is _that_ why you’re staying behind to chat with us oldies?” none of them look the least bit offended, but while he was safe on _that_ aspect, the little smirks and chuckles that escaped the others made him want to justify his actions somehow.

“It’s- it’s because I— _have something to tell them_!” Tenma explained, despite not knowing a) what he would even say to you, and b) that he was planning on talking to you in the first place. Even though all the signs were pointing to him wanting to do so, at least to an outsider’s perspective.

With widened eyes and an over-dramatised look of shock, the show’s director herself let out a gasp. “Sumeragi-kun, you don’t mean… you’re going to…“

Tenma’s perceptive after all, especially when it came to body language. He had to be as the Summer Troupe’s leader! He could tell there was something bothering you a while ago. As co-workers, he just doesn’t want you to have an issue with him is all! Not— not that he was super concerned about what you thought about him though, it was just—

“Tenma-kun?”

The whole group turned to look at the source of the voice, and who else could it be other than the devil itself.

“I’m glad you’re still here!” you exclaimed, a smile gracing your face as you approached the ginger. “I actually had something I needed to ask you about.”

“Huh? Oh, of course you did,” he crossed his arms, averting his eyes from your expectant gaze. “What did you want?” What— what else was he supposed to say?

Unexpectedly, you bring out your phone and hand it to him. Hold on, wasn’t this like those scenes in the dramas he acted in? Or Muku’s shoujo mangas? Where the main character would hand her phone to the guy she liked and asked for his number?

“Could we start chatting on LIME?” Tenma stiffened at your words, until you followed up with “Since you got into theatre before me, you’d probably have some tips or advice, right? I’m still inexperienced, so…”

After what felt like minutes, his thumbs quickly moved to enter his phone number, adding himself as a friend on your phone.

“I’m only doing this because it’s theatre-related, okay? There’s no other reason!”

“Yes, yes, I know… Tenma-kun is always very nice to me,” with a closed-eyed smile making its way to your face, the both of you remained unaware of two things. First, the reddening of Tenma’s ears, and second, the hushed commentary of the others in the room.

“… that felt like a scene from a high school drama,” the director commented as soon as the both of you were out of earshot, looking contemplative, “they’re cute. Maybe I’ll cast them as the leads in my next show.”

Several laughs come out of the group, knowing glances thrown around from one person to another. The usually professional Sumeragi Tenma finally acting his own age, and the one who caused him to act that way. Whether you two knew it or not, you two’d become the hot topic amongst the crew for the next few filming sessions.

* * *

Unsurprisingly, Yuki’s the first one to notice something was up; while Tenma was good enough to be able to hide _whoever_ it was he was chatting with on his phone, he was not slick enough to hide how affected he got upon hearing his phone ping, or the look on his face as he read and his fingers poised themselves to reply.

What kind of person gets smiley so early in the morning _without_ eating breakfast, just because of a text message? Disgusting, really.

Also unsurprisingly, Kazunari’s second to notice, but unlike Yuki he’s the first to properly try and figure out _who_ Tenma’s talking to instead of just making comments here and there.

After all, the blond can only conclude two things— first, they must be a special enough person to have the always busy actor chat with them consistently during his free time; second, Tenten… probably hasn’t noticed that he’s being so, so obvious to the point that Misumi thought their very own leader found a “very special triangle”.

Kazunari found it was a little difficult, trying to figure out who it was exactly that caught Tenma’s attention, especially with the latter keeping a tighter on his phone than usual.

However, it was not impossible.

It wasn’t uncommon for several members of the troupe to gather around the living room to watch the latest episode of whatever drama Tenma was currently in. It wasn’t that uncommon either for him to watch with everyone as well, judging his own acting and seeing how it turned out through the camera.

Tonight was different though, and it would seem that always having his phone on his possession had become his own boon… or perhaps the true boon was sitting in front of Kazunari, giving him the perfect view to have a bit of a peek without being evident about his intent.

…

 _Tenten_ —

_Tenten, why—_

Kazunari found himself sending a mental prayer to whatever deity existed in the universe, not just for his own sanity but for…

His eyes go to the one person on screen that Tenma’s _clearly_ been hyper focused on. ‘Yes, I pray for your sanity, too…’ he thought to himself. It was so clear that you had _some_ semblance of more-than-friendly interest towards his friend, and you were clearly fishing a compliment out of him— if not just for the sake of a compliment, then to gauge his interest level in you.

Honestly, he can’t let this go any further— him snooping getting revealed be damned. Tenma’s been typing and hitting the backspace key for a solid two minutes now, he was clearly hopeless, and Kazunari? Why, he was a texting MASTER— it was his _duty_ to help out his poor disciple.

“Tenten~♪,” as soon as the ginger’s attention broke from the phone, he quickly grabbed the device out of said person’s grasp, ignoring his indignant noises as he quickly typed in a response that seemed in-character enough for Tenma, but enough to pander to you.

When Tenma finally got his phone back, Kazunari resisted the urge to take a photo of the former’s face, morphing and reddening as he registered the rest of the messages.

“Why’d you… why’d you call them _cute_?” Tenma whisper-shouted, looking around to make sure no one was listening in on their conversation, before turning back to Kazunari.

“ _Awww_ , so you don’t think they’re a cutie?” Kazunari asked, clearly baiting Tenma to refute.

“That’s not what I— that’s _not_ the point!”

Unable to hold himself back, he let out a laugh while one of the more serious parts of the show was playing out, causing several people to look at him in wonder. He doesn’t really have an explanation without exposing Tenma, so he gave the vague excuse of seeing something funny on his phone.

Not _his_ phone, but hot diggity dog, did he see something funny alright.

* * *

There was no way he’d ever admit this to you, or to anyone for that matter, but he genuinely doesn’t understand you. You were rivals, weren’t you? Sure he expected you to be civil, but you were being so friendly and kind… and even worse, you were making him feel weird. You were making him do things he normally wouldn’t do.

He glanced down, the newly bought bouquet of roses seated on his lap as he waited for the play to start— the opening night of the play you were going to be in.

Opening night… when the others found out about it, they gave him knowing glances, playful nudges, teasing comments but really, what did it matter if he just so happened to watch on opening night of all nights? It was the night he was free on!

Besides, you were his rival in acting! Obviously, he was going to watch your performance to simultaneously check out your strengths and weaknesses as an actor— how you differed on set and on stage.

… no, that didn’t sound right, even in his head.

Then, he’s watching you because you went through the trouble of asking him for tips about acting on stage, and getting into theatre. He’s kind of like your teacher, right? So he has to support you

… that didn’t sound right, either.

Even after the play ended, he waited for the audience area to be mostly deserted before coming to find you backstage, the stage manager apparently recognising him and letting him pass without much questioning on who he was here to see.

When he finally found you, he stilled in his spot. Oh, you were with…

For a few seconds, his stomach churned, like a fiery pit burning his insides on fire without so much a regard towards any pain he’d fill and—

“Tenma-kun!”

As quickly as it arrived, the fire gets extinguished at the familiar shout of his name. That person turned to you, quickly muttering something that made you giggle, the forming frown on his lips only leaving as the other man did.

“I’m really happy you came to watch me~” you told him, a little bashfully. “My parents couldn’t come tonight, so it was nice to have someone I recognised other than my manager in the crowd.”

Right, opening night was… _a lot_ for him, too. Tenma nodded understandingly. “Obviously? Oh and congratulations, by the way, you did really well,” he added in, watching you gingerly take the bouquet of red roses from his grasp. Your eyes turned a little softer at the present, stuck on the little tag even though all that was written on that pre-made to and from card was your name and his respectively.

“I said I’d watch you, right? Besides, just because you’re my rival doesn’t mean I’m gonna go break a promise.”

You remained silent for a minute, and he worried again if he somehow found _another_ thing that would cause you to stop talking to him, at least for a little while— a time period just enough to bother him.

When you break your silence, you make sure to make direct eye-contact with him.

“… rival?”

“Yes?”

With a heavy sigh, you began muttering to yourself. While he wasn’t able to pick up on comprehensible sentences, your expression was enough to tell him you were annoyed.

Before he could question you, the smile returned to your face.

“You think we’re _rivals_? That’s a shame… I don’t see you that way at all,” you remarked offhandedly, watching Tenma’s face morph into a mixture confusion and hurt.

“What? Do you not think I’m good enough to be your—“

“ _Okay_! Stop the thought right now!” you interrupted, shaking your head vehemently. What kind of derivation was that? “I think of us as _more_ than rivals, is what I mean.”

Tenma’s blush seared through his cheeks, looking almost as though his face was lit up on fire. Despite this, he made no attempt to move to shield his face from your gaze, or any movement at all really— save for how he sputtered in search of some semblance of a viable reply.

“What do you… what are you trying to imply? Are you saying you think of me as a friend or—“

He gets interrupted by the sound of you giggling. “Well, the meaning can be whatever you want it to be!” you exclaimed, the tone of your voice a little mischievous as you continued, “so just let me know which one, okay?~”


	24. tsumugi | maid outfit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which reader is participating in a cafe for their uni's cultural festival, and tsumugi is in for a surprise  
> ⤷ gender neutral reader  
> ⤷ college student reader  
> ⤷ SFW

“We’re hosting a cafe! You’ll come visit me, right?”

From your request alone, it wasn’t difficult for Tsumugi to interpret it as you inviting him to a regular, perhaps aesthetically pleasing, cafe arranged by you and your peers. Nothing about your words nor your expression gave off anything that would convince him otherwise, so he accepted it as face value— you knew he enjoyed the ambience of cafes, after all.

“Of course I’ll go,” at the sight of your expectant gaze he agreed immediately, not putting much thought behind your explanation, or lack thereof. “I remember how competitive every department used to get.”

“Not much has changed in three years,” you shrugged, “a lot of people are doing food stuff too, and all of us want to be the course who earns the most money…”

You trailed off, the sudden upwards quirk of the corner of your lip making you look more devilish devious than the angelic nature he commonly associated with you.

“But I’m confident ours will be the best.”

Tsumugi wasn’t going to lie to himself and say he wasn’t the least bit curious. This wasn’t a new situation, you trying to hide things to surprise or tease him, and like a moth to a flame he couldn’t help himself from trying to figure out more.

Maybe it’s the Psychology degree, or maybe it’s something simpler like him being your boyfriend. Regardless, the procedure was always the same from then on. First, maintain eye contact or at least keep his eyes on your face. Second, slip in a question,

“Mm? Why do you think so?”

“Well,” you tilted your head to the side, pupils trained elsewhere as though you were purposefully keeping him from getting a read on your face. “Everyone has a different concept or theme, and I think ours is easily the best.”

Even with your mostly tight-lipped disposition, he seemed to get a gist of what you could be talking about. Concept cafes were getting more popular lately, all with different gimmicks… maybe you guys were offering a special menu? Like those cafes with the colourful drinks or character meals?

When he asked you to confirm his guess, you only laughed and nodded wordlessly. That wasn’t a no but there was clearly something he was missing. However before he could say anything more the two of you were already outside of your dormitory.

“Thank you for walking me back, Tsu-kun,” you lightly grasped his hands with your own, expression back to a pearly white smile and crinkled eyes as though the look previously on your face was nothing but a figment of his imagination.

“I’ll just message you which classroom I’ll be in, so remember to check your phone, okay?” you reminded him, “and if you don’t remember how to send a text back, just ask Tasuku-kun—“

“Haa… come on, I at least know _that_ much,” he defended himself, his utterance drowning in a sea of your giggles.

“I was just teasing!”

You squeezed his hands one last time before slowly letting go of him, taking a step backwards as you began to see him off. “I’ll see you next week?”

“Definitely,” Tsumugi replied, a charming smile rivalling your own greeting you farewell, accompanied by the words of, “I’ll see you soon, my blossom.”

As he left the premises you had to wonder… how _would_ we react when he saw you next time? Somehow… you found yourself excited just thinking about it.

* * *

Even from where Tsumugi stood at the end of the hallway, he could tell your group’s makeshift cafe was as popular as you predicted it to be, if the hustle and bustle and the constant stream of people leaving and entering the room were anything to go by.

It was easy to see why.

You texted him a few minutes ago, saying you _had_ to be the one to welcome and assist him.

Then… were you also…?

Even as the distance began to come to a close and the anticipation started to bubble up, nothing could have prepared him for the sight of you.

You stood in front of him, clad in a black, puffy, short-sleeved, Peter Pan collared mini dress with a frilly little skirt, the white trimmings stopping mid-thigh. Wrapped around your waist was a white apron with ruffled edges.

Really, the seed was already planted in his head as soon as figured out what _type_ of cafe you were participating in, but when you brought back his attention with your words he found himself all the more embarrassed. How long had he been…?

“Tsu-kun… _ah_ , no, I mean,” he looked up upon hearing you whisper to yourself momentarily, eyes unfailing to notice the cute little headband that crowned your head as you perked back up and fell back into script.

“Welcome back, _master_!”

You threw him your usual smile, but paired with how you greeted him he, all of a sudden, became _too_ aware of the scorching heat rising on his face. In a futile attempt to hide it from you he immediately cast his gaze downwards, only to be met with a sliver of your thighs, the rest of your legs covered up by knee socks with a bow accent.

With all things said and done, there wasn’t anything too inappropriate about your outfit, what with this event being set in school, but even so it was that very innocence and charm that seemed to…

“H-huh?” He jolted as you pulled on the sleeve of his sweater, asking if he was okay and if he wasn’t so busy trying to un-fry his brain and look elsewhere he would’ve noticed a different gleam in your eyes, using your free hand to cover up your growing grin with the menu.

“I’m— I’m fine.”

No he wasn’t. If you bothered to move your hand upwards to meet his face, you probably would’ve burned yourself by the sheer warmth he was radiating. Still, you only giggled with a “master, come this way please,” as you turned around and requested he follow you.

He swallowed.

The straps of your apron met to form a cross on your back, the ends tied into a bow.

Aha, _cute_ …

Darting his eyes away from your form momentarily, he was finally able to absorb the venue’s appearance. He’s attended classes in this room before, and while it was still quite obviously a lecture hall, the cutesy decor littered amongst the tables and chairs set a different mood for the scene.

As you led him to Tsumugi seat and handed him his menu, he was able to calm down and have his brain actually function think more rationally. You purposely left out the details to surprise him, that much was clear. As he moved his eyes away from the egg dish choices and to your face, the look of amusement you wore was evident to him, even if you tried to hide it.

If… if you were trying to play a game with him, then… he’ll do his best to compensate.

“Ahh, master, if you’re having trouble choosing then can I suggest the fried rice topped with character fried egg,” you looked at him through your lashes, connecting your index fingers together, “since it’s my master’s favourite~ ah! Or maybe the omurice? I’ll even write a _special message_ for you, master~”

“Hmm… I’m happy with either one, since you’ll be the one serving it.”

Tsumugi watched you blink once, and then twice, watching you react to the sudden change. You probably expected him to not recover so quickly. Sure, he was still affected by how cute you looked, but as your cheeks began to be dusted with pink, he found you even more beautiful.

As you stumbled over your reply, he interrupted you with a question.

“Are you going to keep that outfit after this?”

Looking a little confused, you broke out of character and nodded.

“Then… could I see you wear it again in the future?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my tsumu stan friends in discord said that tsumugi would definitely malfunction... at first, but since he's quite smooth + has a devious side he'd probably be able to recover + would definitely ask to see the maid outfit at another time~ helped me decide which route to take with his reaction afeboafbafneena


	25. tsuzuru | faint

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which tsuzuru passes out, and reader takes care of him.  
> ⤷ gender-neutral reader  
> ⤷ not director reader  
> ⤷ SFW

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> //tw description of fainting within 200 words (4 paragraphs). 
> 
> there are different descriptions for fainting, but i based this on my own experiences due to anemia and overexhaustion. i apologize if the description isnt accurate TT

Lidded eyes took one last skim through the finished script, a small sigh of satisfaction escaping his lips as he as the papers slowly slipped from his fingertips and onto the desk. Normally, he’d rush to give his latest creation to the director before falling asleep, but he found it too difficult of an action at the moment.

He got the urge to tug on his clothes, the rising temperature of the room making him feel feverish. All of a sudden a wave of sensations overcame him, none of which the least bit pleasant, from the nauseousness to the unsteadiness of his body that made him sink further into his desk chair, despite having been quite settled atop it beforehand.

Even as his vision faded to black, he found himself making sure the papers didn’t fly away and arranging his desk for as long as his consciousness would allow him. With a loll of his head, the sound of you calling his name was the last thing on his mind as his hearing faded out and he collapsed.

Unbeknownst to him, your voice was not a figment of his imagination but reality as you rushed into his room worriedly.

* * *

“Thank you for helping me transfer him to the bed, Usui-kun,” you thanked the younger boy, who quietly nodded before walking out of their shared room with the finished script on hand, only stopping midway to ask if you needed anything. Having calmed down from the mishap, you had to appreciate the once prickly boy being… softer lately. Maybe you’d gift him something next time.

“We’ll be fine, but I appreciate it.”

Sitting on the edge of his bed, you reached out to pet Tsuzuru’s head, feeling his fluffy hair against the palm of your hand as you watched the steady rise and fall of his chest.

“Passing out after every script… do you do this all the time?” you asked, looking at his lips despite knowing he wouldn’t reply. “The others didn’t sound surprised at all when I told them…”

Your hand hovered above his jacket, muttering an apology under your breath before unzipping it, doing your best to loosen any constrictive clothing without waking him up.

“You did well. I’m sure you outdid yourself this time,” you whispered, leaving a faint kiss atop Tsuzuru’s forehead before standing up.

You’d let him sleep for a little longer.

“Surely someone in this dorm will have chocolate…” you mumbled to yourself, giving your boyfriend one last glimpse before closing the door.

* * *

When Tsuzuru woke up the first thing he thought about was not the fatigue his body was currently feeling but the way the bed dipped as you leaned over him, his field of vision clouded with nothing but you looking down at him from above. At that moment it didn’t seem like mere imagination, the way you possessed some sort of uncalled-for angelic light illuminating your very figure like you stepped right out of a romance movie.

The words you were saying didn’t register to him, leaving you to wonder if he still needed sleep or not as he unabashedly kept looking at you.

He was used to the sight of his brothers waking him up, or his troupe mates, or even just waking up alone in an empty room. You being the first person he saw after waking up… was unusual, but a pleasant sight he could get used to.

As his thoughts lingered on you, his eyes finally teared away from watching you pour him a glass of water and focused on the wall instead. Maybe he was still dreaming…

“I know I can’t really control your sleep schedule, but choosing to pass out instead of going to sleep properly isn’t good for you,” you told him, holding a glass of water as you propped up several pillows to help him sit up.

“Thank you,” he frowned at the raspiness of his own voice, quickly taking a much needed sip of water under the realisation that only ingesting instant coffee probably didn’t help his case. “You didn’t have to do this.”

Tsuzuru found it difficult to meet your gaze. You knew him to be a reliable and capable person so as much as he liked you pampering him, having you see him in this state… were you disappointed?

As if reading his thoughts, you shook your head, silencing him by gently pushing a piece of chocolate in his mouth.

“I mean it’d be better if you didn’t pass out all the time, but I get it,” you broke off another portion from the bar, before hand feeding him another piece. “You don’t have to be shoulder everything by yourself, though. You’re always taking care of others.”

Finally looking at you properly, his heart warmed at you smiling at him, his own lips moving to mirror yours.

“How’d you—“

“—get the chocolate? Oh, your kouhai ended up giving me some. Remind me to pay Hyodo—“

He mustered up a small laugh, setting aside his glass to reach for your free hand, disregarding your small noise of protest. No, he did not care that there was some cocoa smudges on your fingertips.

“No, not _that_. What I meant to say was… how do you always know the right thing to say?”

You looked a little flustered at your misinterpretation, before letting out a tiny huff, as if the answer was obvious.

“Because we’ve been through a lot together, even before dating,” you explained with ease, “at some point we just discover each others habits, the good and the bad.”

“So if you’re always taking care of others… let _me_ be the one to take care of you, okay?”

Feeling the pressure on his hands, soft yet clearly present, he entangled your fingers closer to his own.

“I’ll be in your care, then.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hahh my updates are getting slower... my classes are about to start soon so i've been advance studying TT hence less time for writing huhu.


	26. masumi | purple lilac (shine a little love)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which masumi basically works up to a confession  
> ⤷ gender neutral reader  
> ⤷ NOT director reader  
> ⤷ age unspecified, but implied to be at least year 2 ages  
> ⤷ SFW

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi i'm not dead! it's been a while, school kept me away from writing huhu TT but thank you so much for still supporting me! i saw we got up to 500 kudos! thank you so much!!! i never really thought my fics were good enough for that, so i really appreciate it huhu

It was strange.  _ He _ was being strange, or at least that was what he thought of himself. Even with his headphones positioned atop his head, blasting one of his favourite songs in the playlist, he found it difficult to block out his thoughts. Specifically, his thoughts of you.

> _ You shine a little love on my life _
> 
> _ You shine a little love on my life _
> 
> _ You shine a little love on my life _
> 
> _ And let me see _

Masumi was surprised by himself. When it came to Izumi, he had always been vocal about his adoration for her, romantic or otherwise. Previously, he had little to no issue with bombing her with (ultimately pushed aside) proposals, (not taken seriously) confessions, (failed attempts to give her) gifts on days that weren’t even special occasions;

yet he couldn’t so much as speak up on his growing affection for you. 

Having approached him for the pure intention of wanting to be friends, with enough persistence it wasn’t very difficult for you to worm into his heart, different from the rest in the sense that it was something beyond the friendship he’d slowly come to know during his stay in the dorms. 

_ “Family, then?” _ when he expressed those feelings to you some months ago, you quickly turned away from him, gaze avoidant as you closed your eyes. It was a befuddling reaction, but it seemed like you were just taking your time to think before coming to a conclusion.

_ “Family…” _ he repeated those words to you, testing out how it sounded but more importantly, testing out the idea of  _ family _ with  _ you _ in the equation.

_ “Yeah, like siblings or something… oh, nevermind! Guess I won’t be calling you onii-chan~ any time soon.” _

He must have cringed visibly, because you were quick to laugh it off and bounce back with a different topic ready at the tip of your tongue. 

Family and siblings were an entirely different thing.

Masumi hoped you didn’t take it the wrong way, that you took it as him not liking you enough to be on the same level as the Spring troupe or even the other actors in Mankai Company… he wouldn’t spend so much time talking to you otherwise, but there was no way in hell he could see you in the same light as Sakuya or Tsuzuru, or heaven forbid Chikage or Sakyo. Gross. Just imagining himself being all affectionate with the latter two makes him sick in the stomach.

> _ Remember, tonight _
> 
> _ We're gonna say, we'll never stop _
> 
> _ We got a good thing going on _

Hours after that conversation and finally, in the comfort of his room, he pressed his face against his pillow, finally coming to the realization that he was thrust upon a familiar situation once again, similar and yet all the more scarier.

Masumi wasn’t the type of person to joke around or play with someone’s feelings, you knew that well. The moment he finally articulated into words how he felt for you, then everything would change.

Would you feel the same? Yes or no?

He didn’t want to ruin anything.

So he lets the months pass by and though he remains mostly quiet about it, his actions speak differently. He neither wanted to just sit quietly and wait for his feelings to go away (they weren’t any time soon, by the way things were looking), nor was he about to wait for you to make the first move (you didn’t look like you had any plans to). The nosier guys in the dorm quickly found out and tried to help him, but he’d this time… he’d rather just do things his way.

Making you a playlist of songs he thought you’d like, offering to help you pick out new earphones after you broke your old ones, late night calls and messages. 

It wasn’t like there was no pay off either.

Everything he’d do, you’d respond in kind.

A day after he sent you his playlist, you quickly followed up with one of your own, a playlist of songs that  _ made you think of him _ , apparently, and with your words alone you rendered a blush out of him, not that you were physically there to see it. However, his roommate looked far too amused for his liking. 

Then you wanted to test your new earphones by sharing the two pieces between yourselves, and though he was more of a headphones guy there was  _ something _ heart fluttering about the distance (or lack thereof) between the two of you, shoulders pressed together as you listened to the same song (coincidentally, a song from the playlist he made for you).

And on the nights that he chose to stay up with Tsuzuru as the latter wrote the night away, you’d be there a call away, keeping him company for as long as you could before eventually falling asleep. Your steady and quiet breaths, a telltale sign of your slumber, warming his heart as he lingered for a few more seconds before ending the call.

Even if you somehow got the hint and tried reciprocating, as Muku and Kazunari so often insist, nothing would be official until one of you said something.

> _ I know you've heard it all before _
> 
> _ But I really need you, darling _
> 
> _ Every day, I need you more _

“Do you know about flower language, Masumi-kun?” Tsumugi asked him, on the way home after doing street acts together all afternoon. 

He was being pretty sus. Normally Izumi would decide for them, but Tsumugi had specifically requested for the two of them to be a pair under the guise of having a specific idea for an improv, which while interesting wasn’t exactly groundbreaking. 

“Only a little bit.” 

Tsumugi hummed in response, and the younger boy couldn’t help but wonder what the Winter troupe leader was up to. 

“Not everyone expresses their feelings the same way. Flowers are a good example– it’s indirect and subtle at first glance, but the gesture and meaning of whatever you choose make your feelings clear as day.”

Though his nonchalant tone implied otherwise, wasn’t his small talk actually a disguise for something else? 

He’d been pretty doubtful of the “confession techniques” suggested to him by the others, from a poem (he’d rather just straight up confess) to a kabedon (wouldn’t that just confuse you?) to getting down on one knee and– (a proposal?);

Coming from Tsumugi, however, the suggestion didn’t seem that bad. Actually, you might like it– he didn’t doubt that you’d at least appreciate both the aesthetic and thought put behind the present.

“What if they don’t get it?” although the blue-haired man’s smile remained perfectly serene, but something hidden within his eyes spoke volumes about his true intentions.

“Then you either, A, explain out loud and confess, B, tell them to look up the flowers online, or C, mix some red roses within the bouquet. Nothing’s more obvious than red roses.” 

Tsumugi’s pace slowed to a stop, looking somewhere thoughtfully. Even without glancing back, the flowery scent quickly invaded his senses. Taking this route home… even this much was planned, then?

“Masumi-kun, is it okay if we take a look here before going home?”

> _ Can you understand (yes, I understand) _
> 
> _ Can you feel it's right _
> 
> _ (I know it is) Will you be the same _
> 
> _ (I'll do it all again) _

When he presents you the bouquet he’s chosen, you make the same expression you did all those months ago, shut eyes and head turned sideways. The only striking difference being the red patched across your face, matching one of the flowers in the bundle of 12.

The sight gives him more confidence, squashing some of his nervousness and giving him the courage to keep talking.

“The meaning of the red roses should be obvious, but you said you liked purple so I added lilacs to the bouquet, too… I thought you’d find them pretty. Do you like it?”

You peeked at him first, before focusing your gaze on the red and purple ensemble as you stumbled to say yes.  _ Cute… _ if you keep acting this cute, he’ll just buy you flowers every day, then. Anything to get you this flustered again.

> _ You shine a little love on my life _
> 
> _ You shine a little love on my life _
> 
> _ You shine a little love on my life _
> 
> _ And let me see _

“Then, do you like me back?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh! this will also be crossposted on the flower series fic, since this was originally just a standalone work but it got combined with the flower fic one haha.
> 
> for inspiration, I listened to progressive rock bands, and I honestly… really vibed with them. Electric Light Orchestra was one of the bands I liked most. the meaning of the song used is different, but I decided to just pick and choose the lyrics that have a more innocent/pure pining connotation, please don’t fight me progressive rock fans ue ue i'm not an expert huhu.


End file.
